Permanent Scars
by ProjectMischa
Summary: From the very beginning I was thrust into a cruel and harsh world. I lived with equally cruel and harsh people. The food sucked, the room sucked, everything sucked. My only hope now is to escape. Where will I go? Only time will tell. Prequel to The Fire's Illusion. Rated M because, let's face it, it's gonna be violent.
1. The Awakening

**Hey, everyone! So I finally got the first chapter finished of the prequel to The Fire's Illusion. I decided to get fancy and have names for my chapters for this one. It shall be starting from the beginning, and by the beginning, I mean the ****_very _****beginning. Anyway, enjoy!**

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Darkness. Darkness was the only thing I could see. My eyes had been closed for what seemed to be forever. So long, to me, that I always wondered what the outside world beyond my eyes was like. I wanted to open them, but they were stubborn, reassuring me that it was not yet that time. How long had it been since I had started breathing? How long had it been since the breath of life had given me part of its glorious gift? Suddenly, the quiet, dark, and peaceful bliss was interrupted by a loud buzzing sound. The sound had hurt my sensitive ears and I let out a small, pitiful wail, hoping that someone understood my distress and would cease the noise. My panic only continued to rise when I felt large, yet delicate hands grab me and bring me close to whoever the hands had belonged to. I continued to cry until I heard the being speak, but I could not understand the stranger. I heard the gentleness in the tone, however, and calmed down, willing my stubborn eyes to open for the first time.

I laid my eyes on the person who cradled me; it was a young woman wearing a white coat with clean, strawberry blond hair and vibrant green eyes. She gave me a bright smile and spoke again, crooning to me happily. I could not understand her, was she happy that my eyes were open? All of this seemed so strange to me. I looked to her curiously. I didn't know this lady. Where was I? Where was my mother? Did I even have a mother? Was the lady holding me my mother and I just didn't know? If she was, did I look like her? I silently hoped that I did. She was kind and gentle and pretty.

My rushed and confused thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a heavy door opening and slamming shut. I looked up fearfully; I had a gut instinct that something was wrong. The kind woman who was holding me had tensed her muscles. Two men dressed in dark green colored uniforms walked into the large room. I looked around at my surroundings as they entered, the room itself was surrounded with odd looking contraptions that I did not know the use of. Perhaps one of those machines had made the loud, and irritating buzzing sound that had woken me up earlier. Thankfully, that noise had ceased.

I finally turned my attention towards the two men. The oldest man looked to the lady. He had dark brown hair that was starting to gray and cruel, ice blue eyes. I didn't like him, and I felt my heart freeze when he looked at me, but then he looked back at the lady that I had accepted as my mother. He raised a bushy eyebrow and talked to her in a voice that was anything but gentle. Quite the opposite, actually. It was cold and cruel, just like his eyes. There was something about the way he held himself and the way he talked and looked that just shot fear into my fragile heart.

The lady nodded, her eyes, once happy and kind, were now wide with fear. She understood him, but I did not know what either of them was saying. I didn't know words at this point in my life. My "mother" seemed to be as frightened of him as I was, perhaps a bit more. Was the cruel man that talked to her my father? No. I wouldn't accept that fact. I couldn't even imagine my mother getting along with such a man. I risked another wide-eyed look at him. He held himself high, as if he was above everyone in the room. He seemed like a figure of authority, based on how he looked and sounded confident, but I could tell that he was cruel. Perhaps he was corrupt from power. I didn't know for sure, but he irked me. I couldn't see myself getting along with him in the future.

The other man, a much younger looking fellow with bright blond hair and brown eyes, looked at me suspiciously and spoke in an irritated tone. I couldn't help but get the feeling, by the sound of his deep voice, that he was insulting me. I frowned and held up one of my arms, inspecting my chubby, childish fingers. I didn't see anything wrong with me. From what I could tell, everyone else in the room had hands too. Sure, mine were small, stubby, and chubby, but, wasn't that normal for someone my age? What did the young man not like about me?

The old man glared at him and barked in a harsh voice, slapping the younger fellow with the back of his hand. The hit was so hard that the sound of it echoed around the machine room. I winced slightly from the sight, but I couldn't seem to tear my eyes away. Oh, how I wished that my eyes were closed at this point, but they did not want to cooperate with me.

The blond boy held his cheek for a moment before looking back up, wiping an odd red liquid away from the corner of his mouth. Blood. The side of his face where he had been struck was now beet red. It looked like the hit had really hurt, but he did not shed a tear. Most definitely, he was tougher than I. If I were in that situation, I would have been bawling by then. He glared at the older man fearlessly and shouted at him angrily, taking out a weapon. It was thin, and sharp, and its silver metal was glinting in the dim lighting. It was a knife.

The older man only let out a cruel and terrifying laugh before taking out his own weapon. It was slender and black, shaped to fit easily in his hand, and it had a long barrel for shooting out projectiles at a quick speed. A gun. He whispered in a scary and murderous voice before a loud bang reverberated around the room. The noise was too much for my little ears to take and I started to wail like the baby I was, the lady, who was frozen to the spot, trying to quietly calm me down.

Through a vision blurred by tears, I could see the old man standing beside the fallen body of the young one. A hole was in the head of the blond man, and a sickly crimson liquid pooled around him. He didn't move. I didn't know at the time, for I was too innocent, but I had witnessed, only mere minutes after experiencing the breath of life myself, someone end the life of another for the first time.

The old man looked at the lady, she was just as scared as I was, I could tell by her shallow breathing. He pointed an index finger at her and barked an order to her harshly. She nodded and rushed out of the room as fast as possible, taking me with her. I didn't understand what had just happened, but I was terrified, my terror fueled even more by the terror of my mother. Suddenly, the great gift of life didn't seem that great anymore. Would life always be like this? Constantly living in fear? If so, I'd like to go back to having my eyes closed so that I wouldn't have to witness anymore horrors.


	2. It's Time

**Hey everyone! I managed to get another chapter finished today for this story. It seems to be a lot easier for me to write this one because I already had the main plot points of my character's past written down for a character reference sheet. I'm enjoying writing this already! XD Anyway, enjoy!**

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It had been several years since the day I was brought into the world, but the day I had witnessed a murder through my innocent, infant eyes still haunted my dreams. I was especially disturbed now that I was six and could better understand the world around me. Unlike most children at my age, whose eyes gleamed with happy and energetic life, my big eyes were forever clouded by fear of the murderous old man. However, the nice woman who had held me that fateful day, who I later learned was named Anya Desyatkov, had taken care of me in my early years. Sadly, she could not take care of me forever. Soon, I'd have to be trained by the very man I feared, the old man, or the Headmaster of the Hydra base we lived in, as Anya had explained to me when I had asked her where we were.

The base itself was located only a few miles away from the city Moscow, but well hidden, as I've been told. No one has infiltrated or attacked the base in almost one hundred years, and I was told that Hydra had a big influence over a lot of Europe at this point in time, where a second world war had raged. However, despite the war I didn't understand, it was not the outside I feared. What I feared was the inside. The people here were cruel and harsh, not including sweet Anya, and I soon learned that if I were to survive, I had to keep quiet and submissive, even when insults were constantly being spat at me by the workers at Hydra.

The only person I trusted was Anya. It turned out that she was a nurse who worked in Hydra for a few years, still fairly new to the place herself, to help heal the soldiers and scientists who were constantly developing advanced weapons for the war. She volunteered to look after me when I was created because she wanted to know what it was like to be a mother and couldn't have a child of her own due to infertility. Not to mention, she told me that if she hadn't volunteered, that I would have been put under the care of Marusya Abalyshev, who was a "horrible old hag" as I heard Anya once call Marusya under her breath.

Anya was in the middle of telling me about the outside world, for I was forbidden to set foot outside, when we heard angry voices faintly down the hall, getting closer and closer ever so slightly. She widened her eyes and looked at me, "It's time."

I looked at her in confusion, but I was slightly fearful from the serious tone in her voice, "Time for what?"

"You are considered of age to them. He's going to take you."

"The Headmaster?" I asked fearfully. We never used his real name, it meant disrespect if we did. Anyone disrespectful to him ended up dying, like the blond man I had seen get shot in my infancy.

"Yes," she said quietly, and then added quickly when the voices got closer, "Now, I want you to listen to what I have to tell you at this point very carefully. Are you listening?"

I nodded, my eyes as wide as an owl's.

"Good. He's going to train you so that you can serve Hydra. You'll have to do everything he says, exactly as he says it, or else he'll punish you, understand?"

I gulped and nodded, my eyes starting to tear up. Punishment around here meant torture. I remembered hearing screams down this very hall once, late at night, and wondered if the Headmaster had dished out some punishment then. "But, I-I don't want to leave you, mother." Despite the fact that I knew now that she wasn't my mother, I always considered her to be.

Anya looked at me with her gentle eyes and pulled me into a tight hug, "Hush now, dear child, it will be all right." She held me so that she could look me in the eye, "Now, wipe those tears away and take a deep breath."

I sniffled softly and then complied, stopping the flow of my tears, if only for that moment. I knew they would shed again later.

"There's a good girl," she said softly, gently tucking my long, dark brown hair behind my ears, "Be brave, child. Hopefully this will all be over soon." She gently kissed my forehead in a motherly fashion and soon, the voices stopped on the other side of the door and roughly pounded on it. Anya stood up and walked up to the door, slowly opening it. I hid behind her fearfully; I didn't want to go with the two men who waited on the other side.

"We're here for Project Z," a tall, muscular man said, referring to what I was called. The Headmaster had failed to give me a name when I was born and continued to call me by Project Z, the name they had used when I was being developed in the laboratories.

Anya nodded and hesitated a moment, it was obvious that she really didn't want to give me up yet. "Are you sure she's ready?" she asked, "I mean, she is still only six."

The other man, much shorter, but just as muscular glared at her, "We're under strict orders from the Headmaster to fetch her now, at this point in time. Hand her over."

"But what if she's not ready?" she protested.

"He doesn't care if she's ready or not, her training starts today. Hand her over now," the short man repeated, his voice more harsh and forceful this time.

Anya sighed and looked to me sadly, gently pushing me towards the two men. I whimpered pitifully and held tightly onto her hand, refusing to let go. "You must go, child," she said softly.

I shook my head, my eyes closed tightly, "N-no. I don't want to!"

"You must," she repeated softly.

I sighed and opened my eyes, hugging her tightly and then looking at her for one last time before slowly walking towards the two men. They looked at me scornfully before leading me down the hall, walking with me in between the two to make sure I didn't make a run for it. I ignored their disappointed looks; I was too busy worrying about what would happen to me now that I had to face the Headmaster.


	3. The Headmaster

The walk itself seemed endless, but I suppose part of the reason was because the dungeon-like base was enormous. There were many different floors, each with countless rooms for countless purposes. The entire basement itself was dedicated entirely to science. I was only able to walk in the basement with a supervisor because they assumed that I would destroy the experiments with my grubby fingers. What I saw down there was alien to me, and I couldn't even fathom how Hydra managed to make such weird weapons. Some of the weapons looked like they belonged on another planet, another dimension, anywhere but Earth.

I looked absently at the walls, my heart pounding in my tiny chest. I was frightened on seeing the Headmaster, for he constantly haunted my dreams and turned them into horrible nightmares. The conversation that went on between my escorts during the walk only made me feel worse. The tall man had looked at me in disgust, his hazel eyes almost as cruel as the Headmaster's own icy gaze. "Why are we even going through the trouble of training her?"

The shorter one looked at him in shock, obviously not expecting his outburst, "You dare to question the Headmaster?"

The first man shook his head, his short black hair shifting a bit from the movement, "No, of course not. I know what happens to those who question him. I am simply stating that she doesn't seem to be the weapon material we all hoped for. I mean, look at her!" he pointed at me as if I had done something wrong, but I tried to block out his harsh words, "She looks like she can barely walk on her own two legs!"

I narrowed my eyes, staring at the floor beneath me. My legs looked perfectly capable of holding me up. So what if I was tiny? Why did he care? I clenched my tiny fists in anger, my knuckles turning white and my nails digging into my pale skin, "I'm not _that _weak," I muttered quietly through clenched teeth. I spoke without thinking, and once I realized what I had said out loud, I silently hoped they didn't hear me. Speaking out for myself would only get me killed.

Thankfully, they didn't seem to hear me as they continued the conversation. The short man looked to the other man, "She will be stronger after her training. The Headmaster seems to believe that she has some potential; besides, it took many years to develop the genetic makeup of Project Z. He's not going to completely say she's a lost cause without training her first."

I looked up to the hallway before me, my eyes widening in surprise. A compliment from the cruel murderer? Maybe he wasn't as bad as everyone said he was. The tall man's smooth voice broke me out of my thoughts, "I hope you're right, because, right now, I have a hard time believing it."

"Silence," the short one hissed under his breath, "We're here."

I looked up at the two huge, mahogany doors leading to the Headmaster's room. The tall man rapped on the door, and I heard the familiar cold, muffled hiss of the Headmaster, "Enter."

The two men opened the door and, before I knew it, roughly shoved me into the room, not daring to walk in with me. I let out a squeak of surprise and stumbled, almost falling flat on my face. Thankfully, I caught myself just in time and stood up, now close to the center of the large room. I looked around for a moment, the room was so magnificent that I was overwhelmed by all of the riches I saw.

The ebony floor was covered with soft, intricate rugs and the walls were filled with imperial tapestries and paintings. There were gold goblets on a dark, mahogany table in the very center of the room. The table was long and large, with many chairs surrounding it, probably for meetings of all of the Headmasters of the Hydra bases scattered throughout the world. In one corner of the room, there stood a large, black chest filled to the brim with gold coins and valuable jewels. Compared to Anya and I's dim, dreary, gray looking room with cold stone floors and just one hard bed with a thin, tattered blanket, the Headmaster lived like a king.

"What are you gawking at, girl?" I heard the Headmaster growl, his voice like ice. My eyes snapped to him, and I suddenly realized that my mouth had opened from the shock of all of the valuable items I saw in the room. The Headmaster himself sat on a rather comfortable looking red velvet chair. It was almost like his throne. He was just as I had remembered him from my infancy. Tall, with dark brown hair that was gray on the sides, and those sharp, calculating, cruel ice blue eyes.

I widened my eyes and closed my mouth before saying in a rather tiny and insignificant voice, looking at the floor, "N-nothing, honorable Headmaster."

"I see," he said, his voice betraying the fact that he didn't believe me, "Do you know why I called you in here?"

"For training," I said quietly, not even looking up. I didn't want to look at him anymore, he was scary to me.

"Stop mumbling and say it louder, you weakling!" he snapped.

I jumped a good distance in the air from the sudden loud voice and looked up, still avoiding eye contact, "For training!" I said, much louder and more clearly than the first time.

"Good, you were paying attention." He stood up and walked around the table, coming to a stop in front of me. He easily towered over my small, child height and I had to crane my neck back just to look at his face, that horrible, frightening face that haunted my dreams. He raised an eyebrow and narrowed his eyes in disapproval, "You're rather scrawny," he said scornfully, "This will take longer than anticipated." He walked towards the large doors, "Follow me."

I nodded and scrambled after him into the hallway. "W-where are we going?" I squeaked.

He glared at me, "Are you really that dull to not already know?" I stayed silent and looked away from him before getting the terrifying shock of him roughly hitting the back of my head. The impact was so hard that I almost fell over. "We're going to the Training Room, you dumbass!" he hissed, still walking and not even bothering to see if I'd follow.

I stopped walking for a moment and quickly wiped away a tear that leaked from my eye, rubbing the back of my head. It was already pounding from the hit. I glared at the back of the Headmaster's head, my eyes narrowed to tiny slits. Okay, there was absolutely no way this cruel man had a heart! Once again, my hate and fear of him seethed in massive waves. After recovering a bit from the smack, I scrambled after him to catch up before struggling to keep up with his long, swift strides. My only prayer was that I would survive the training session. I still didn't know what he had in store for me.


	4. Brutal Training

**Hey guys! Sorry it took me so long to update, these last few days have been very busy, and I'll probably be really busy for a while now. I'll try to get as much writing done as possible and post up the chapters as soon as I type them. Anyway, enjoy!**

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I was splayed out on the floor, my body drenched with sweat and covered with cuts and bruises. The Headmaster stood before me, his eyes narrowed in disappointment once again at my failed attempts of training. I let out a small cry of pain that I strained to hold back as he kicked my side. "Get up," he snarled, his voice striking fear into me once again.

I let out a small whimper and complied, standing up on shaky legs and wiping some blood away that had leaked from my nose. He was a brutal teacher, to say the least. In our combat training, he never held back his punches, dishing them out as if I were an enemy. He told me that it was so that I would be prepared for brutal hits in the future. Why did I even have to train to fight at an early age anyway? I was afraid to ask him, scared that he would only hit me again.

I looked at the Headmaster, and he went into a battle stance, his arms held up with his fists clenched, "Attack me," he challenged. I studied him carefully for a moment, partly to get my bearings, and partly just so that I would finally be able to hit him back and let out a bit of rage that had built up inside of me. I started pacing a bit before suddenly rushing at him, swinging one of my frail arms to try and land a punch to his face. In one swift movement, he sidestepped, entirely dodging my swing and grabbing my whole outstretched arm, flinging me over him and throwing me on the floor. I let out a small gasp of pain as I hit the hardwood floor, my eyes blurring slightly from tears. "Your attacks are too predictable," the Headmaster growled.

I scrunched my face up my pain, just lying there for a moment to get my breath back. It didn't help that this was probably around the third time he managed to fling me into a hard surface today. My head was pounding from his punches and my body ached from his attacks and from the attempts I made at attacking. I wasn't used to fighting, so it hurt like hell. I didn't want to learn how to fight anymore. "Can . . . can I be done?" I panted.

"Not yet. I still need to see how you do on the defensive stance. Get up."

There was _more_ I had to learn and endure? I groaned and rolled over onto my stomach, painfully getting up again. I turned to face him on unsteady legs and held my arms before me as the basic defensive stance. The same one I had seen him do earlier. He smirked and before I could even fully prepare myself, he rushed at me, faking a swing to the right that I fell for and actually punching me in the gut with his other arm, sending me flying backwards from the impact. I landed with a hard thump against the nearby stone wall, getting the air knocked out of me. Through blurred vision, once again affected by my tears, the Headmaster stalked up to me, "You must always expect the unexpected, weakling! Falling for such tricks will never get you anywhere."

I felt the metal tang of blood in my mouth and spat out the crimson liquid onto the floor beside me. "A-all right," I stammered once I got the blood out of my mouth and had my breath back.

"Class dismissed."

"C-can I go back to Anya?"

He narrowed his eyes, "No. You will have your own room. You must learn to live without relying on others."

"At my age?"

"The world outside is cruel. There are those younger than you who learned to live alone out in the streets. Dependence is weakness. You'd do well to remember that."

I stood up shakily after I had recovered my bearings; his hits had left me dizzy and very much shaken up. My left eye was almost swollen shut and there was a cut above my brow. My nose was bleeding, which I tried very hard to stop from doing so, and my whole body was bruised with many shallow cuts all over the place. It hurt to even breathe. My ribs hurt from hitting the floor and walls so many times, and my head had a pounding migraine. Did every kid have to go through this? I couldn't even fathom how the outside world was crueler than the man that stood before me. "Where is my new room, then?" I asked quietly.

The Headmaster grumbled to himself and then shouted to a lone guard with brown hair who was standing just outside the room, "You there!"

The guard jumped and looked to the Headmaster in confusion, pointing at himself, "Who? Me?"

The Headmaster rolled his eyes, "Yes, you! Who else would I be addressing?"

The guard turned a bright shade of red, most likely from embarrassment, "Oh, right. . ."

The Headmaster let out an exasperated sigh and grumbled, "I'm surrounded by idiots," and then saying in a louder tone, "Get over here!"

The young guard nodded and scrambled over to us, "What are your orders, sir?"

"Escort the beast to her room."

I clenched my fists and glared at the floor beneath me, a small lump forming in my throat. Was I no longer considered human for failing to learn how to fight quickly enough? I glanced up at the guard and looked at him in confusion. For a moment, I thought I saw him look at me with sympathetic brown eyes. "Of course, Headmaster," he replied, and motioned for me to follow him out into the hall. After we walked a good distance away from the training room, the young man spoke up, "Looks like he gave you a really hard time."

I looked up at him in surprise and nodded, "Yeah. . ."

"You really look beat up, are you going to be okay?"

"Yeah," I was now utterly baffled, no one except for Anya had treated me kindly before this man. "You're new here, aren't you?" I asked after a while.

"Yes, got here a few weeks ago, actually. How could you tell?"

That explained why he was being nice to me. He didn't know that I was only a science experiment. "Just a guess," I said after a few moments of silence.

"What's your name, kid?" he asked.

I looked up at him with wide eyes, "What?"

"What's your name?"

I looked at the ground before me, "I . . . uh . . . I don't have a name."

"You don't?" I heard the surprise in his voice.

"No. . ."

"Well, that's absurd. Everyone has a name."

"Not me. . ."

"Don't worry," he said reassuringly, "you'll get one someday."

I looked up at him, not knowing what to say to that, so I simply asked, "How about you? You got a name?"

He chuckled, "Alik. Alik Galdin."

I smiled a bit, talking to him almost made me forget the pain I received. Almost, but not entirely. "Nice to meet you, Alik," I said quietly.

Alik smiled, and then paused before saying, "If you don't mind my asking, what's a little kid doing in Hydra?"

My smile immediately fell. I didn't know how to respond. I couldn't bring myself to tell him the truth. He was the only other person here to treat me nicely. "I was born here," I said. It wasn't really lying to him; it was only a half truth, so I didn't feel too guilty.

"Ah, odd place to be born," he responded before stopping in front of a large black door. "We're here." He opened the door for me and I slowly walked in, looking around at my surroundings. It was just like Anya's room, only shabbier, if that was even possible. It looked like the room hadn't been used in years.

The room was dusty, with spider webs in the corners of the room. In the far corner of the room there was a small bed with a thin, tattered sheet that barely covered the mattress. In the opposing corner, there was a small wooden table with a single chair. The floor and walls were a cold, dark gray stone and in the far wall was a barred window in which light filtered through. There was no glass to block out the cold chill that blew in from the outside world.

I looked back to Alik, giving him a tiny smile, "Thanks," I said quietly.

He chuckled a bit, "No problem," and then paused before adding, "Want me to fetch the nurses to patch up those cuts?"

I opened my mouth to reply, but I stopped short, remembering the Headmaster's words. _Dependence is weakness. _What did that mean? Did it mean that I couldn't even ask for aid when I was injured? I decided to take no chances, lest I disappoint the cruel man again, "No."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, they'll heal eventually."

"All right then," he said doubtfully, "See you later, kid." At that, he closed the door and walked away, leaving me to myself in the cold, dungeon-like room.


	5. New Surroundings

**I managed to get a second chapter finished today and got both this chapter and the last chapter typed up today! Anyway, enjoy!**

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I stood in the very center of the room, looking around at my new surroundings. It was almost identical to Anya's room, with every shabby piece of furniture in the same place, but no one had used this room in possibly decades. I walked up to a dusty mirror with a large crack down the middle of it. It was one of the few things in this room that wasn't in my old room.

I looked at my reflection for the first time and I suddenly understood why the Headmaster always said that I was weak. I was thin and frail with very little muscle showing on my body. My pale skin was covered in horrible injuries from the training and my brown hair was grimy and dull. If I didn't know any better, I could've believed that the person standing before me was a small girl who had given up on surviving.

I didn't understand why everyone treated me differently, or how I was different from any normal human. I looked just like any normal girl at my age, aside from the bruises and thin body structure. Then I noticed my eye color. My eyes were an odd shade of magenta, an eye color I had seen on no one else in the base. It was scarily inhuman, despite my very human appearance, and I felt that it was the reason people didn't like me. My eyes were forever clouded with pain and were extremely dull-looking for a child my age, giving me an even more alien look. They would have been pretty if they were livelier. How come Anya hadn't told me about my eyes? Did she want me to feel normal by not pointing them out? How did Alik not notice them? I studied the bruises and cuts on my face and decided that my beat up appearance distracted him from my eyes.

I shivered a bit from the cold breeze that hit my arms and tore my eyes away from my reflection, looking instead at the window, the other thing that Anya's room didn't have. I suddenly realized the window's existence, almost forgetting about it when I was looking at myself. I could finally see the outside with my own eyes! In my excitement, I grabbed the rickety chair by the small table and dragged it across the floor, finding newfound strength by my urge to see the world that was on the other side of these stone walls. I placed the back of the chair against the wall and underneath the window and stood on it, peeking up over the ledge.

What I saw was disappointing. I was told that there were huge and marvelous cities everywhere outside, bustling with thousands of people doing millions of different things, not just working in a base as a scientist, nurse, or soldier. I saw the exact opposite of a bustling city. What I saw was a vast, empty wasteland that went on for what seemed like forever. The ground was covered in a white blanket of some unknown substance. I think it was called snow. Scarcely dotted amongst the landscape were tall, looming brown figures that started as one large structure before branching out into smaller limbs in several directions. Trees. But, where were those green things called leaves? Anya had said that trees had leaves.

I went over what she had told me about the outside world in my head. She had said that the trees had leaves during the spring and summer, and that the leaves changed color and started falling in the fall. The fact that the trees I saw before me had no leaves must have meant that it was winter. I sighed sadly, from the things I had heard about the outside, I was expecting much more than what I saw. But, then again, life was full of disappointments, wasn't it? Just as I turned my head away from the window to leave the chill of the winter, I saw something move out of the corner of my eye.

I turned to face the window again out of curiosity and stared intently at the large expanse of white. Suddenly, something was moving. Something small and furry darted around the snow; it was easy to spot because its fur was dark brown, contrasting with the pure white of the ground. I looked at it in surprise; it had the bushiest tail I had ever seen that curled slightly at the end, with two big eyes and tiny, hand like paws. It held a small nut in its hands and jittered slightly, letting out a small clicking noise before quickly scaling a nearby tree and vanishing into a hole near the top.

I widened my eyes. What was that little creature? No one had ever told me that something so cute, tiny, and speedy existed in such a cruel world. If I ever saw Anya again, I'd have to ask her what the animal I had seen was called. It was adorable. I wondered if any of the guards would let me keep one as a pet. Maybe I could ask Alik to get one for me; he seemed nice enough to do such a thing. The sound of the door opening behind me snapped me away from my thoughts of the creature and caused me to turn around, quickly getting down from the chair and moving it back into place beside the table. A uniformed guard set down a tray and left without another word. I sighed, I had secretly hoped that it was Alik, I could at least talk to him without scorn. Sadly, the guard that had given me my food was far different from Alik. I could've imagined the young, new guard to at least give me a cheery greeting instead of being as silent as the man that had entered seconds earlier.

I looked at the metal tray on the floor curiously before walking over to it and inspecting the contents. Was that what I was supposed to eat? It didn't even really look like food. The meat was as stringy as could be and cold, barely having any warmth left in it. The bread was so stale that it was as hard as a rock. I picked up the small loaf of bread and experimentally banged it as hard as I could against the stone floor. It didn't even break. What was I supposed to break this with? Did they think that my teeth were made of steel? I took a tentative bite of the bread and couldn't even break off a single piece to eat. I placed it once again on the food tray and took a small bite of the meat. It was so stringy that I could barely swallow it. I sighed dejectedly and pushed the tray away from me and away from the door. With a growling stomach and an aching body, I trudged over to my bed and tried to sleep, wrapping the thin blanket tightly around me.


	6. A Taste of Poison

**Hey, everyone! Sorry it took me so long to post this next chapter. I finally got my own Minecraft account and got addicted to it and, as a result, procrastinated with getting this up. Bad me. Anyway, here's the next chapter finally. XD**

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Once again, my dreams were filled with nightmares. The reoccurring nightmare of how a man's brains had been blown out haunted me still, only now, it was merged with the horror of being beaten to death personally by the Headmaster. I know he didn't actually beat me to death, but it terrified me that he was very much capable of such an act. I had my eyes shut tight, willing them to open and try to shake me from the terror, but they would not cooperate, forcing me to keep watching as I got pummeled. Just before he gave me the killing blow, the pounding of the black door jolted me awake with a gasp. I sat up and stared at the door, panting heavily, before calming down and realizing that I was still in the safety of my room.

I let out a groan and laid back in my bed a while longer, not quite wanting to get up. I was still dead tired from my training and my lack of sleep the previous night. When the pounding persisted, I slowly got up, my muscles screaming in protest and my whole body still aching from the bruises and cuts that had clotted now. I carefully waddled over to the door, trying to use my aching muscles as little as possible, and opened up the heavy door, trying so hard not to wince from the exertion I had to put in my arms. When the door finally opened, it revealed an average, middle-aged guard looking at me with annoyed, squinty eyes. "Took you long enough," he grumbled, "Time for training."

Again? Would I have to train every day from now on? I suppressed a growl of frustration. At this rate, I had a feeling I'd die of exhaustion or overworking myself before I ever got good enough for the Headmaster to even consider giving me a break. "Combat training?" I asked, trying to hide the fear, disdain, and dread in my voice. I didn't want to get beaten senseless again. I still hadn't quite recovered from the shock I had received yesterday with his teaching style.

"No," the man said gruffly, "He'll be teaching you something different today."

Oh, thank God. I let out a tiny sigh of relief before pressing for further information, "What will I be learning?"

"I don't know," he said stoically, "He didn't reveal too many details, only that it wasn't combat. Now, if you're ready, then follow me."

I nodded and walked after him, completely puzzled at this mystery training. What else was there to learn? I thought we only needed to learn combat around here. I wondered what else I didn't know about in this mysterious and dreadful base. As I looked ahead, following right behind the uniformed guard, I noticed that we were going a long, winding route unfamiliar to me. "Where are we going?" I asked. It certainly wasn't the way we had taken to the Training Room yesterday. Were there other ways to reach the room?

"To the laboratories."

The laboratories? What could I possibly do in there? I thought I was forbidden to go down there unless I had permission. Why would he want to train me in there? My eyes widened a bit in surprise, this would, after all, be the first time I officially visited the basement, "Oh . . . okay. . ."

We eventually reached the end of the hallway, the guard fishing out a key and opening the metal door before us, showing steep, cold, metal stairs. As we slowly descended the staircase, I clung tightly to the rail, afraid that I'd fall down them. I'd never gone down these things without Anya, and I was once again frightened for myself. Neither of us said a word, the only sound being the soft click of footsteps on the metal floor as we reached the basement and stopped in front of a large, silver, metal door with a vault-lock combination. I watched in silent wonder as the guard punched in the combo on the number pad, and then I jumped in surprise when the door unlocked with a loud clang.

He turned the wheel in the middle of the door and it slowly swung open. My eyes only widened even more at the spectacle. I had never seen a door like this, whenever I went down to the basement, I was in the east wing of the area; the west wing was always closed off to me until now. "Right in there," he said gruffly.

I nodded slowly and cautiously walked into the room, jumping once again as I heard the door slam shut behind me. I glanced briefly back at the door before inspecting the laboratory. There were black tables rowed down the center of the room, three columns total and each having at least ten tables. Each one was equipped with clear, glass test tubes and fat beakers. Some were in odd shapes like spheres with thin glass extending out from the side like arms, and some were carefully and meticulously placed in racks. Some were even bubbling with odd, colorful liquids on Bunsen burners, the small, alluring flame at the top boiling the liquid. There were only a few scientists in the room, keeping check on the tables with the liquids on them, but none of them paid any heed to my curious inspection.

One particular liquid, however, caught my eye. I stopped by the table with the beaker holding the fluid on the burner and stared at it curiously. The liquid was a beautiful, hypnotic, deep purple color. The color itself drew me to it, even more than the beautiful flame that heated it up. I looked around me; there was no one else close to this table at the moment, so I continued to stare at the liquid. After looking at its elegant appearance for a while, I started growing an odd desire to touch it. Slowly, I reached out my hand, and just as I was going to reach the glass, I heard a deep voice snarl behind me, "Don't touch that!"

I jumped in surprise and drew my hand back, whirling around towards the voice and coming face-to-face with the Headmaster. How had he snuck up behind me so quietly? The floor was metal, I should've heard him! "S-sorry!" I quickly exclaimed, looking to the floor beneath me in shame and guilt.

"Don't apologize for such a foolish act!" he hissed, "You tried to touch it and you knew that you shouldn't have. Such idiotic behavior will only endanger you and everyone around you! I expect you to know better than that next time!"

I nodded quickly, not daring to look him in the eye. "Y-yes, Headmaster. I will."

"Good. At least you didn't succeed in touching it this time, that's all that matters. Just . . . don't touch anything else in here unless I give you permission to. Now, follow me." He turned on his heel and stalked off towards a center table.

I quickly scrambled after him, and once I caught up to him I asked quietly, "What was that liquid?"

"A deadly poison that kills through contact. It seeps through the skin and kills the victim slowly and painfully within forty eight hours. So far, there is no cure for it. We've spent years trying to develop its formula, and the ingredients the poison requires makes it extremely hard to produce. That's why I didn't want you to touch it."

I gulped a bit and nodded, "O-okay." _Good thing I didn't touch it, then! _But I couldn't help but wonder why Hydra was trying so hard to develop such a deadly poison. What would they even use it for? I was still too ignorant to even know of the organization's true intentions, and could only question things to myself. We stopped by a table filled with clean, empty beakers and various ingredients. The plants were all weird and alien to me. They came in various shapes and sizes, some geometric, and some just completely random and strange. They were colorful, even outmatching the poison's color that I had seen earlier. I didn't have any idea why there were so many odd plants, but I didn't want to ask. I didn't want to seem dumber than I probably already appeared to the Headmaster.

"Today, you'll be learning how to make various poisons," the Headmaster proclaimed.

"What for?"

"It's good to know about the dangers of the world. Each of these plants on the table are all poisonous on their own, but combined are even more deadly. Knowing the plants that are poisonous will help you know what to not eat when you're in the wilderness. Not to mention, people can easily use poison to kill you, learning about the various types will not only prevent you from getting poisoned, but will help you learn how to get rid of the toxin should it happen to slip past your eye."

I nodded. In my mind, that actually made a bit of sense, so I no longer questioned why Hydra was making these deadly toxins. Maybe they were working on a cure for them and had to have the actual poison for testing. I watched in silent wonder as the Headmaster took two ingredients, one of them being a couple of small, bright green leaves, and mixed them together, creating a small amount of clear liquid. "Now, this liquid is the poison most used for contaminating drinks. It's clear and tasteless fluid makes it ideal. In small doses, it's perfectly harmless, but large doses will slowly kill you by paralyzing the body functions." I nodded quickly, drinking in every word and not daring to speak. "The best way to prevent getting poisoned in this way is to never accept drinks from other people. Impulsive decisions are what get people killed. Remember that."

Poison training turned out to be way more complex than I could ever imagine combat training to be. There were so many different mixtures for poisons and countless ways to administer them. Not only did I have to learn how to make the poisons, but I also had to learn ways to remove the toxins from the system should I or a comrade get poisoned. By the time I was finally able to go back to my room and sleep, my head was buzzing with so much information that it almost hurt.


	7. Into the Shadows

**Hey everyone! I finally got my next chapter finished! This past week has been extremely busy for me, so I didn't get to have as much time to write as I wanted, but I finished it! Anyway, enjoy!**

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The next morning I was awakened by the cold chill of winter hitting me again, but this time, the wind was howling against the walls outside. It was much rowdier than I was used to. Before now, I had lived in a central room with Anya, which meant no open windows or sounds of the outside. I shivered and watched in curiosity as large snowflakes blew into the room through the thin bars. I sat up and wrapped my blanket around me in a very inadequate cocoon to try and warm myself up. The new routine pounding of the door beside me started resounding around my cell. For once, I was thankful for whoever came to fetch me, if it was only to get into a warmer place. I ran towards the door and opened it, revealing, to my greatest surprise, the nice guard that was named Alik smiling at me. "Alik!" I exclaimed happily, throwing my small arms around him in an excited hug.

He chuckled softly at my reaction, "Hey, kid!"

"I haven't seen you in a while!"

"Yeah, I know. I've been sent on quite a few perimeter checks. The Headmaster's been having us work in shifts at the moment. Today, I'm the one who's been sent to fetch you."

I nodded, "Ah, okay." It seemed like a rather organized system for the guards. I wondered how the Headmaster had figured this entire thing out. Then, a question formed in my mind as I remembered the woman I considered my mother. "Have you seen a lady named Anya Desyatkov?" I asked Alik, "She's kind of average in height with blond hair and green eyes."

Alik thought for a moment, mulling over my brief description. After a moment of silence, he looked at me and nodded, "Yeah, I saw someone that matched your description a few times walking down the halls. Why do you ask?"

"She took care of me when I was a baby. How is she?"

"She seemed to be doing fine the last time I saw her. She's been working in the Medical Bay almost every day at the moment. I assume the Headmaster reassigned your friend back to her nurse duties once you started training."

I let out a small sigh of relief. Anya was still here, she was still okay. Not seeing her since the day they took me away for training had made me anxious. "So, what am I doing today?"

"More training," Alik replied, walking out into the hall with me following closely behind. Almost instantaneously, I was assaulted with a wave of heat from the hall. It was tons warmer than my icebox of a room that I had lived in.

"What's up with the weather outside?" I asked curiously.

"Nasty blizzard, that's what. It's been pounding the base something fierce ever since it suddenly started at around midnight. Most of us were moved inside when it started up, but a few unfortunate souls have to sit outside to guard the entrance."

"That sounds awful," I said quietly, almost at a whisper. I was suddenly thankful that the Headmaster had me train inside and not out in the cold snow.

Alik shrugged, "Eh, just another storm in Mother Russia."

I nodded slightly, "Ah . . . okay." We continued walking in silence for a moment before yet another question had popped into my head. "Do you know what I'm supposed to be training in today?"

He chuckled softly, "Well, I'm not supposed to tell you, but he'll be teaching you about sneaking and infiltration today."

"Really?" I widened my eyes in surprise, "Cool! Why weren't you supposed to tell me?"

"The Headmaster likes to keep his trainees in suspense for what they're learning. Keeps them interested, you know?"

"Ah, that's weird."

"Yeah, no one really quite understands the Headmaster's way of thinking. It's kind of a guessing game with how he is," Alik replied, "Although, from the things I've heard he's been training you in, it seems like he's training you to be a spy of some sort."

I couldn't help the big grin that spread on my face. I had heard about spies and what they did. It always sounded cool to be one. "A spy? That's awesome!" I could suddenly imagine myself being sent on super, amazingly top-secret missions to gather information and infiltrate the enemy bases. It almost made all of these back-breaking training sessions seem worth it.

Alik's voice snapped me out of my fantasy, "We're here."

I looked up at the large, black, imposing door before us and gulped a bit. I was frightened by the sheer size, how it so easily dwarfed me, and couldn't help but hesitate. "I-in there?"

Alik nodded, "Don't worry, you'll be fine." He opened the door for me and a deep, black abyss greeted me. I hesitated a moment at the threshold of the door before slowly walking in and staring suspiciously at all of the dark shadows in the room. Where was the Headmaster? I couldn't see him anywhere in the room. Once my eyes grew accustomed to the dim lighting, I cautiously inspected the dark room. In one corner, there were chains dangling from the ceiling, and there were obstacles all over the room. There was even a small hallway at the far end of the room that seemed to have an alarm system attached to it.

Only seconds after I had managed to get a good look around the lifeless room, I was suddenly caught in a chocking headlock. I let out a strangled gasp of surprise and flailed my weak arms to try and free myself from the unseen enemy. My eyes bugged out and I couldn't breathe. I was terrified. "Clumsy," a familiarly cold voice hissed in my ear, not even loosening his grip, "How foolishly clumsy." The Headmaster released me from his grip and shoved me away. I stumbled and landed on the floor, catching my fall with my hands and wincing a bit. I took in a big gulp of air and coughed a bit before my windpipe recovered from the grip.

I didn't even bother to get up as I got my breath back and merely glared at the Headmaster, looking at him with burning, hateful eyes. There was no reason for that, in my mind, and I couldn't fathom why he chocked me so badly. He narrowed his eyes, deciding to ignore my glare for now and said scornfully, "You weren't paying attention and let your guard down. Were this a real situation, you'd be dead, or worse."

I raised an eyebrow, a bit confused by his statement. What could possibly be worse than death? I wasn't too keen to find out, but I was still furious that he had chocked me. I didn't care if he had a brutal teaching style, he didn't have to _actually _choke me like that. I decided not to bring that up for fear that he'd punish me. "Where were you at?" I asked hoarsely, my throat sore from his crushing grip.

The Headmaster simply pointed to the chains in the corner, "Right behind those. In the shadows."

I looked at him with surprised eyes, "W-what? How's that possible? Moving through those should've made noise."

He grinned slyly at me and I shrunk back a bit. I didn't like the look of that grin. It was wolfish and frightening, giving him an even more fearsome and untrustworthy appearance, as if he was a man of many secrets. "Ah, but that is the point," he finally said, "This is merely an introduction to your training. By the time you are done with this training, you should be able to not only detect those who try to creep up on you, but also slip by unnoticed, no matter the conditions."

"How?"

"It takes practice, patience, and skill, something you can only attain through practice. Now, let's begin." I nodded slightly and stood up, now directly facing the Headmaster. "The first few tips to successfully sneaking are walking on light feet, staying low, and staying in the shadows. Observe." In a swift movement, he crouched low to the ground and vanished in the darkness. I widened my eyes and listened closely, trying to see if I could hear him walking. There was no sound to be heard. After a few moments, he reappeared in front of me. "Now, you try."

I nodded slightly and walked into a dark corner before trying to copy the sneaking position he demonstrated. I walked slowly around the room, keeping to the walls and the shadows. I was trying to move as silently as possible. It didn't seem too difficult, but perhaps he could hear the slight clicking sound my feet made on the metal surface. When I snuck around for a bit, I finally went back towards the center of the room and stopped in front of the Headmaster.

He looked at me and gave me a brief nod, "I could only slightly hear your footsteps, but that wasn't bad . . . for a beginner."

I widened my eyes in surprise, after all, this was the first time he had actually praised me. "Thanks," I said quietly.

"But," he added, "you still have much to learn. Again." I was once again put through excessive training, but sneaking seemed to be my forte. I caught on quickly to my training, and the Headmaster had made me go through obstacle courses with alarms and items that would make noise. He had wanted to see if I could go through them silently. At first, I failed miserably, but I was soon able to complete the task after a few tries. I still wasn't perfectly silent, but I would improve through practice.

Eventually, I did so well at sneaking that the Headmaster dismissed me early. As I was escorted back up to the main hall, my mind was rushing to see what I could do in my free time. Sadly, there wasn't much a little kid like me could do in a military base.


	8. Visitations

**Hey everyone! I finally have the next chapter up for this story! Enjoy!**

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I wandered down the main hall, not even knowing where I was going. For once in my life, I had no escort to accompany me down these halls, no one to guide me to my destination. I was trying to find the Medical Bay so that I could speak to my mother, Anya, but I had no idea where the room was in this blasted building. After a while of walking, I noticed a guard walking past me in the hall. I stopped and called out to him, "Hey!"

The guard stopped and glared at me, "What do you want, you stupid creature?!"

My voice faltered a bit, my face looking a bit crestfallen, "Um . . . I, uh. . ."

"Spit it out," he snarled, "I don't have time for you to be standing there stuttering like an idiot!"

I jumped a bit from his outburst, "Right! Sorry! Uh, do you know where the Medical Bay is?"

He grunted in contempt, "Can't you read the signs?" He thrust a thumb at a white, rectangular sign bolted to the wall with Russian characters on them.

I stared at the sign in confusion; no one had ever taught me how to read. I looked back at the guard and sadly shook my head, "No . . . I can't."

The guard rolled his eyes and pointed to the letters at the top with an arrow pointing upwards, "Medical Bay's on the second floor. If you can't find it, look for this sign," he pointed at a red cross beside the arrow.

I nodded, "O-okay! Thank you!"

He snorted, "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Now get going and leave me alone! I've got duties to attend to."

"All right!" I ran off towards a small door in the side of the hallway and opened it, running up the stairs two at a time before entering the first door I saw at the end of the staircase. I stepped past the door, closing it behind me and looking at my surroundings. The second floor looked exactly like the first floor. Plain rooms with wooden floors and black, metal doors. The only difference was that the rooms were different, and the layout was slightly different. I looked around the empty hallway before going left and walking a straight path. Soon, I managed to walk past a door with a faint red splash at the top. I paused, turned my head back, and backed up until I was right in front of the door. At the top of the black door, although faint, was a red cross. This must be the Medical Bay.

I eagerly opened the door and walked inside. This room was much different from all of the others I had seen so far. Most of them were dark, cold, either made of stone or metal with few windows and little lighting. The rooms were normally dark, with black walls, floors, and doors. This room however, was a clean, pristine white with just as pure a color of hospital beds lining each wall. Thankfully, it seemed that not many of them were filled with soldiers in need of care. Any that needed treatment were there for minor wounds. The nurses were bustling around, checking their patients before checking on their equipment and then repeating the process. I eventually found Anya in the sea of people with white coats. She was sitting in a gray chair for a break.

I smiled and walked over to her, "Anya!" I greeted happily.

Anya looked up, widened her eyes, and smiled, "My child! My darling! What a surprise this is!" She enveloped me in a tight hug. "I haven't seen you in a while, I was beginning to worry."

I smiled brightly and returned the hug, "I know, Anya, I've just been busy."

"You and I both, sweetheart," she murmured softly before letting me go and looking at me. "My, my!" You're so thin! Did they not feed you?"

"No, Anya, they give me food. I guess I just burn it off really quick." I didn't want to tell her that they were giving me barely edible food. I didn't want her to worry.

"Ah. Well, how has your training been?"

"Good. The Headmaster's a rough teacher, but I've been learning a lot." Again, rough would be an understatement, but I didn't want to make Anya worried sick. It wouldn't help with her work and who knows what would happen if someone caught her working sloppily.

"Has it been hard? You look so tired!"

"Yeah, it's kind of difficult, but I was good enough at today's training to get a day off."

She smiled, "That's wonderful! And you decided to spend your time off with little old me. How sweet!"

I giggled, "You're not old, Anya!" Indeed, she was only about twenty five or twenty six, so I had no clue why she was saying that she was old.

She chuckled softly, "It's just an expression, dear."

I blushed a bit from embarrassment. That actually made sense, "Oh. . ."

She gave me a warm smile, "It's all right."

I then remembered the small, fluffy brown creature I had seen outside my window a few days ago. "Anya, I need to ask you something."

"What is it?"

"Well, uh, my room has a window, and I was looking outside of it and I saw something. It was this really small creature with brown, fuzzy fur and a curling, bushy tail. It held things in its front paws and it climbed trees. What was it?"

Anya smiled, "That would be a squirrel, my child."

"Sq-quiwerel?" I asked, trying to pronounce it and utterly failing. Why was this word so hard for me to pronounce? Curse my childish voice and my ignorance!

She chuckled, "Yes. They're all around forest and park areas. The little guy was probably trying to get a few more nuts before the worst of winter came."

"They eat nuts?"

She nodded, "Yes. They're pretty jumpy little things, though."

I giggled a bit before yet another bothering question entered my mind. "Why don't I have a name?"

Anya looked at me, surprised by my sudden question, "What?"

"Why don't I have a name?" I repeated, "I noticed that everyone else here has at least two names, like you, with your name being Anya Desyatkov, or that Marusya Abalyshev you keep talking about. But, I don't have any names, only that weird Project Z title and stuff."

"Ah, well," Anya began, "The Headmaster never named you, and I was trying to think of one for you, but I always got busy with the duties around here that I didn't have much time, not to mention that none of the names I came up with seemed to fit you."

"Oh," I said quietly.

"However," Anya continued, "I think I finally found one."

I looked at her with wide eyes that sparkled with excitement, "Really?"

She nodded, "Yes. What do you think of Mischa?"

I smiled, "It sounds wonderful!"

Anya smiled brightly at me, "I'm glad you like it! You can use my last name as your own, since we're kind of like family, aren't we?"

"Yeah!"

She chuckled softly, "Mischa Desyatkov. Kind of has a ring to it, no?"

I nodded, "Yeah, it does! I could get used to being called that."

"Me too."

Just then, a loud grumble came from the back of the room, "Anya!" a harsh, female voice called out. I could hear footsteps stomping towards us, "Break time's over!"

I looked towards the voice and found a tall, skinny old woman with her face wrinkled and her skin hanging loosely over her frame. Her eyes were dull with age and her bony fingers had ugly warts on them. There was also this huge mole on her left cheek. I widened my eyes at her appearance and hid behind Anya. The old woman had looked like a witch, and witches _ate _children like me. "Yes, Marusya," Anya calmly replied.

"Well, get back to work!" at that, the witch Marusya stalked away.

"Horrible old hag," Anya whispered before looking at me, "That was Marusya Abalyshev, she's the Head Nurse. She oversees all of the patients and nurses here. I should probably get back to my station. See you later, Mischa."

I nodded and ran out of the room, heading back to my own room after noticing that it was starting to get dark out. I finally had a name! I was one step closer to being normal, well, as normal as a kid living in a base could get.


	9. The Fire Within

**Hello, everyone! Sorry it took me so long to update, but I've had a super busy week, but soon, Spring Break will be here and then I'll have a ton of time to write and everything! Anyway, I hope you enjoy this next chapter!**

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The only person to now know of my new name was Alik because I simply believed that he was the only one to care. He still addressed me as "kid", but he seemed excited at the news. The other guards and people who worked in this base still thought of me as a nameless beast, but I no longer cared. I knew that there were kind souls out there, Alik and Anya being the only examples I knew of so far. Training continued on normally. I was being trained every day, switching off between combat, poison, and stealth training. I was finally starting to show some improvement with my combat skills, managing to land a few hits on the Headmaster occasionally. It was extremely satisfying every time I managed to kick or punch the cruel man. Combat training was the only time I could let out my anger and frustration towards him, so I always attacked as violently as I could. Only during one day of combat training, one month after I had started my training, something odd and mysterious happened.

It had begun as any other normal training session. Little talk and a lot of fighting. We were going at each other with venomous vigor, throwing punches and kicks at each other in any way possible. I was about to block a strong punch that the Headmaster threw, but I lost my footing, slipped, and couldn't react in time to keep myself from getting hit. As a result, the Headmaster landed a brutal hit on my lower jaw, knocking my head back and causing me to fall over onto my back with a loud thump. I let out a small grunt of pain, clenching my teeth and just lying there for a moment, letting my head stop feeling dizzy, and sitting up, spitting some blood out of my mouth and holding my jaw. I glared at the Headmaster, and he scoffed, "A clumsy mistake on your part. You must keep solid footing, always, and be prepared for attacks even when you do lose your footing. Why must you always mess up that simple task?" I opened my mouth to answer, but before I could say anything, he cut me off and answered for me, "Because you don't _think. _Your clumsy errors are what make you such a weakling, and will only kill you later."

I clenched my fists, narrowing my eyes until they were only tiny slits. I had trained tirelessly for every single day of my young life, for a month now without complaint. He had no right to call me weak, not after how good I had been doing. I was now feeling more furious than I had ever been at that point, and my vision seemed to be filling with red at my rage, the temperature seeming to rise slightly with my increasing anger. Before I could even think about and know what I was doing, I swiftly jumped up and launched myself at the Headmaster, punching his stomach and blocking his swings with my other arm. I used my leg to make him fall to the floor, and once he was down, I pinned him to the ground as best as I could, tightly clutching his shirt collar and holding my other fist back, preparing to give him a good punch in the face. "Don't. Call. Me. Weak," I hissed with my teeth clenched, my low, venomous voice scaring even myself. The Headmaster wasn't looking at my face, though; his attention was on my fist, staring at it with slightly widened eyes. When I finally regained control of my emotions and my impulsive actions, I suddenly realized what I had done. I had no idea that I did such an action during my rage and had been confused. It was weird; it was as if someone else had been controlling my body while I was angry.

I looked to my pulled back fist and widened my eyes in fear. It was on fire. Flames were wrapped around my small fist, lashing at the air but never harming my skin as they gently licked it. I freaked out by the sight and jumped off of the Headmaster, waving my flaming hand in the air and trying to put the fire out. I slapped at my hand a few times and the flames were finally snuffed out. I carefully inspected that hand that had spontaneously lit of fire, aside from it feeling slightly warmer from the fire; there were no burns or anything to show for the flames. I was completely and utterly baffled. Fire was supposed to hurt, burn and melt off the skin, why didn't it hurt me? I looked up at the Headmaster, who was now standing up and was looking at me thoughtfully with a wolfish smirk on his face. I shifted under his gaze, his devilish expression frightening me and making me doubt all that I had been told about Hydra. "Well, that was . . . interesting," he said after a few moments of tense silence, "What was that?"

I looked at the ground, "I-I don't know. . ."

"You need to attack with that much vigor all of the time," he said, the frightening smirk still on his face.

So, he was talking about my sudden burst of rage, resulting in the fight. Why wasn't he concerned about, say, my hand randomly catching fire? I looked away, not liking the dark look I noticed in his eyes, but I briefly glanced at him as I asked, "Do you know why my hand randomly lit on fire like that?"

His grin widened, "Yes. It was included in your genetic code. A genetically enhanced gene we extracted from a fire-controlling mutant."

"Why didn't anyone tell me about that earlier?" I asked, slightly freaking out about this new fact on what I really was.

"You wouldn't have understood us at the time, and it wouldn't have produced such . . . favorable results."

I raised my eyebrows in puzzlement. His small explanation and the fact that they hid this huge secret from me made me doubt the people who lived here even more. What other dark secrets was this base hiding? "O-okay," I said quietly. No wonder I had always been scorned here, how I had always been regarded as a lesser being. I was a flame-conjuring freak of nature.

"How did you summon them?"

The Headmaster's sudden question made me snap my head up and look at him, "Summon what?" I was still so overwhelmed from this new revelation.

He rolled his eyes, "The flames, you imbecile!" I could tell by the harsh and cold tone in his voice that he was losing his patience with me.

"I-I," I tried to scour the back of my mind, trying to recall what had happened, but I had no recollection of anything during my rage. "I don't know. I got really mad and I didn't even know what I was doing until after it all happened. . ."

"I see. . ." the Headmaster said in disappointment, glancing at a small clock on the wall to see what time it was. "Class dismissed. Forget tomorrow's poison training, you will be working on figuring out how to summon your flames."

I nodded, "Okay." At that, the Headmaster stalked out of the room, moving with swift, long strides. I hung back a bit, thinking about this training session. It was so odd, so strange, if I had been told that it was only a dream, I would have easily believed it, but it couldn't have been one. The experience was too vivid, too real, and too painful. My jaw still throbbed from his punch, and my hand slightly stung from when I tried to put out the flames on them. I sighed and finally walked out into the hallway. I had no idea on how to process all that had happened, but I knew that I'd have to get used to this whole "summoning flames" business. I entered my prison of a room and plopped onto my hard bed, just lying there wide awake until my eyelids finally became heavy and allowed me to sleep.


	10. Training the Mind

**Hey everyone! Here's the next chapter up, and I already have an idea for the next chapter, I'm excited to get that all written down for you all. Anyway, enjoy!**

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The normal sound of the door being pounded on woke me up once again. I sighed tiredly, my eyes flashing open as I still lay in my rather uncomfortable bed. My head still hurt from yesterday's training. After a moment of just sitting there and trying to clear my head, I finally sat up and glanced outside my barred window. Spring was just starting to enter the air, the snow only sparsely dotted around the now green-looking ground, and a few small birds were flying across the blue sky. I sighed longingly, staring outside for a few moments with tired eyes. It's been almost seven years since my life started and I had not once even experienced the world surrounding the secretive base, not once had I felt the cool caress of fresh air or enjoyed the fragrant smell of flowers. Why was I forbidden to go outside? I know, they always said that the outside world was dangerous, but from this window, this single, lonely window, it all looked peaceful and serene. It looked much different from the prison I lived in. I started doubting those who had created me, and I had to look away from the window and close my eyes to shut out my rebellious thoughts. Such thoughts, such actions would only end my short life prematurely, or it would even earn me a punishment worse than death. I shuddered at the thought.

When the impatient, annoying pounding persisted, I got out of bed and dashed towards the door, the waiting guard not even saying a word as we headed towards the training room. Once there, I walked inside and the guard left, leaving me alone with the Headmaster. He was sitting calmly at a lone table, only one empty chair across from him. He looked right at me and silently motioned for me to take a seat. I nodded and quietly complied, somewhat nervous about the unnatural silence of the room, and as I sat down, I looked at him uncertainly. How would we do this kind of training if neither of us knew how to start? "Did a clear mind allow you to remember?" he asked expectantly.

I looked up, trying to search the back of my mind, but any memories of what had occurred yesterday were still blank. It frustrated me that I still couldn't remember. Why couldn't I? Did I get hit in the head really hard and I just forgot? I sighed and shook my head in response to his question.

He sighed, "I was afraid of that. We'll start from square one, then. Try to call the fire again."

I nodded, "Where should I call it?"

He held up a match, "Bring it to this match. Light it on fire without touching it." He set it in an old, rusty metal tin and looked at me expectantly, obviously wanting me to figure it out instantly.

I gave him a small nod, feeling more nervous than ever. He was ordering me to do something that neither of us knew how to do. I sighed and tried to think about how I had lit my fist on fire. I was furious when it had occurred, so perhaps it was linked with my anger, my adrenaline. I stared at the match and thought about what angered me the most. My confinement from the outside, the secrets of my home, the fact that I didn't even know who or what I was, the Headmaster and his brutally endless training. I narrowed my eyes, none of those things that popped into my little mind seemed to light the match. Perhaps it wasn't linked with my rage after all; maybe it was linked with something else. What else could I do?

I remembered the alluring flames of the Bunsen burners in the laboratory, how they flickered and danced to their own, deadly tunes. Maybe I should've been focusing on the nature of the fire itself. I stared at the match once again in concentration, imagining a small flame flickering on it, burning and eating up the match. I imagined the warm heat of fire reaching it and catching it on fire, an image of the little match bursting randomly into flames from the sudden heat. Sadly, that did not happen in my reality. After a few minutes of trying to imagine the flame, I started willing for the heat to go to the match instead, as if the heat was a living thing that could be ordered around and could respond to me. Beads of sweat dripped down my forehead as I exerted my mind in a way I used to think impossible. The concentration, the will and energy put into what I was attempting was harder than I had originally thought.

Eventually, when I almost gave up, the whole match burst into tiny flames, the hot fire darkening the pale wood as it slowly decreased its size. I let out a sigh of relief and slumped back into my chair, wiping some sweat from my brow. The Headmaster looked at the flames and smirked, "It seems you found out how to do it. What did you do? Tell me."

"I just concentrated on the fire itself," I said quietly, "I willed the heat of the fire to it and it just lit on fire with a bit of effort and energy put into it by myself. It's . . . it's kind of hard to explain. . ."

"I see. . . Well, it is a rather small flame compared to your first one. . ."

I narrowed my eyes slightly, my fists held clenched in my lap, trying to keep myself from launching at him again. Really? He was nitpicking me _again_? _It's my first time, give me a break! I'd like to see _you _try that, _I thought bitterly.

"However," he said, "I suppose you will be able to create larger flames with more practice. Let's continue." For the whole day of training, he had me light random items on fire with my mind. It was tiring at first with all of the energy involved in it, but the more I summoned my flames, the easier it became to create small fires. At the end of the training session, I was dead tired from the exertion of my mind and exhausted, even my body felt like it didn't want to move. It was almost as if I had spent the whole day lifting extremely heavy objects. I trudged tiredly towards my rather empty room, finding that even my rock hard bed became a bed of feathers as soon as I plopped onto it. With a pounding head and an exhausted body, I fell asleep in seconds.

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**And, yeah, I know that most of the chapters so far is just training and sleeping, but that was most of her early years. I only plan to spend at least one chapter on the four types of training she does, so I've got that all covered and everything. We'll start having more variety in the next chapters, most definitely.**


	11. An Ancient Power

**Hey everyone! So I finally managed to finish this chapter up for you all. It's my longest chapter in this story so far, but there was just so much I needed to put in here! Anyway, enjoy!**

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It had turned out that my training session from yesterday had exhausted me so much that I didn't even hear the pounding of the door early in the morning. I certainly got a shock after that. The guard that was sent to fetch me roughly shook me by the shoulders and shouted in my ear, "Wake up, you worthless piece of shit!" he snarled.

I let out a surprised gasp and sat up so quickly that I fell off of the edge of the bed and landed face first on the cold, stone floor. "Oomph!" I grunted, my face still flat on the ground.

"You're going to be late for training, hurry up!"

I rolled over onto my back and sat up, holding my forehead and spitting out one of my front teeth that was knocked loose from my fall. I suppose it wasn't too much of a loss, it had been a loose baby tooth for weeks now. "All right," I said quickly, adrenaline allowing me to get up and scurry after the guard, who was already halfway down the hall. Once there, I ran into the training room and bowed my head in shame of myself, fearful of the Headmaster's glare. "S-sorry," I mumbled, "I-I overslept."

"No excuses," he growled, "You need to be ready for training at all times."

"I know," I said quietly, staring at the floor in guilt. "What . . . what are we doing today?"

"We're doing all four training sessions," he said emotionlessly.

My mouth unconsciously dropped open. All four training sessions? I could handle them one at a time, but all _four_? I felt overwhelmed at the sheer fact of it and barely had the strength or bravery to ask, "Why are we doing all four?"

"We need to take the rest of the time preparing," he stated simply.

"Preparing for what?" I asked innocently.

"That is something you don't need to know," he snapped harshly, and I questioned him no further for fear of being slapped.

The training session itself was a living hell. I was given no breaks between the training types, moving from combat, to fire, to poison, and to stealth with no signs of stopping. By the time our rushed training session was done, I felt like I was dying, being sent straight back to my room. I expected to be out for training the next day, but I was confined to my room for days, not once being let outside of my room. Perhaps they didn't want me to get in the way of their "preparations". I paced restlessly in my room, looking out the window, summoning small, floating flames and watching them out of boredom. There was nothing else to do in my room, aside from look at my own reflection and feel slightly disgusted at my weak looking frame, the very thing I was constantly scolded for. I stopped pacing in my room when I heard faint voices outside my door. Out of curiosity, I pressed my ear to the door and listened.

"So, I heard new that you found the item, correct?" it was the all too familiar voice of the Headmaster.

"Yes. We've already started our research on it," this was a deep male voice that replied, but I couldn't recognize the accent. His way of speaking was much different from how we spoke here in Russia. Was this man from another country?

"Is it finally what we've been after?"

"Yes, everything and more."

"Good. We'll talk more about it in the conference room."

"Why the secrecy?"

"The walls have ears," the Headmaster replied slyly. I widened my eyes at this comment and stepped away from the door. Did he know that I was eavesdropping this whole time? How much trouble would I get in if he did know that I was eavesdropping? More importantly, what was this mysterious item they were talking about? What was so special about it that they had to discuss it in secret?

When their footsteps faded away, I tentatively turned the handle to my door, finding to my own delight that it was unlocked. I was too curious about this item to pass up a chance to find out more. I slowly opened the door and quietly followed the faint footsteps, keeping silent and low to the ground, as I had learned from my stealth training, and followed as quickly as I could. They soon rounded a corner and went behind a thick door, slamming it shut. I sighed as I heard the faint click of a metal lock going into place. Just as a test, I pressed my ear to the door and silently cursed. Soundproof! I wouldn't be able to hear anything from this end.

I sighed and stood up, walking around the general area of the room and looking for another way in. I looked up at the wall near the ceiling. There was a vent up there. Perhaps I could crawl up there and listen in on their secret conversation. I walked up to the base of the wall and looked up, only to have my faint glimmer of hope turn to sorrow. I wouldn't be able to get up there, it was too high up. I decided to go looking around for more of them. All of the vents I saw were too high up.

With a sigh, I trudged dejectedly to my room, giving the ceilings there a quick look. A dusty grate not too far away from the table in my room caught my attention. Yes! There was a vent in here! I struggled to push my table the small distance so that it would be underneath the vent, and then I carefully lifted up my chair and placed it on top of the table, scooting it so that it too was under the vent grate. I climbed on top of the chair and came to eye level with the vent, but there were screws in place to keep it shut. I rolled my eyes in exasperation before remembering the gift that Anya had given me on my fifth birthday. I jumped back onto the floor and pulled out a silver coin from underneath my pillow. It was a token to remember each other by. She could not afford much else for a gift, but it was perfectly fine. Her kind and caring nature towards me was gift enough in this world I was born in.

I carefully climbed back up my stack and used the coin to unscrew the screws in the vent grate. When I was done, I slowly placed the grate on the table and crawled into the vent. I was small enough to fit in and still freely scoot around a bit on my belly in there. I looked around the snug, metal surroundings, looking at the curves and branching areas leading to other rooms. Where would I go? I decided to just follow a straight path, trying to remember the path I had taken in the hallway to find the conference room. I followed my singular direction before hearing voices echo slightly in the vent. I paused and listened before following the direction of the voices until I came to another grate, looking right into the conference room.

Through my slightly obstructed vision, I could get a small glimpse of the two people in the room and the room as a whole. The conference room itself was similar to the Headmaster's own room, except there was a large, round table in the center of the room, surrounded by chairs. The Headmaster himself was pacing around the room, checking all around, probably to make sure it was clear. "Really, are all of these precautions necessary?" the foreign man asked, his voice making me turn my attention towards him. Through the vent grate, I got a semi-good look at him. From what I could tell, he was only slightly shorter than the Headmaster and had short, black hair, also looking younger than the Headmaster.

The Headmaster looked back at him and shrugged, "You can never be too careful, especially with this information, right?"

"True. . ."

The Headmaster took a final sweep around the room before taking a seat at the table, "All right, everything's clear. So, tell me about this object you found."

The stranger nodded, but refused to take a seat himself. He took out a tan folder and set it on the table, sliding it over to the Headmaster, who opened the folder and scanned it, widening his eyes slightly. "So this is the Cosmic Cube," he said. I raised an eyebrow in confusion. Cosmic Cube? What was that?

"Yes," the foreigner replied, "An ancient relic with immense power. We've found, through our recent studies, that the Tesseract is pure energy. With that kind of power, we'll be unstoppable."

My confusion only continued to grow. At least now I somewhat knew what this "Cosmic Cube" thing was, which was also apparently called the Tesseract. Why did everything have so many names? And why was Hydra after this Tesseract? What would they do with it? More importantly, what exactly did this Tesseract do? Was it bad, dangerous, lethal even? And how the hell was Hydra managing to research pure energy? Surely, it was impossible to grasp pure energy, right? I strained my neck forward a bit to try and see into the folder that the Headmaster was reading to hopefully get more information about it, but I couldn't get a single glimpse of the file or its contents.

"This is excellent news," the Headmaster replied.

"Indeed it is. We're just now working on the prototypes," the foreigner answered, and then added, "So, tell me about your Project Z."

I stared at the two, my interest piqued even more. How did the stranger know of me? Perhaps the Headmaster had spread word about it through all of the bases. Did all of Hydra know about me? I could easily believe it at this point.

"The creation was a success, and although she is currently weak, she will grow stronger through her training," the Headmaster replied.

I clenched my fists tightly. Once again, the Headmaster was chiding about my small frame. Did he forget about the time that I had somehow managed to kick his ass out of anger? I still didn't quite know of all of the details, but it seemed to me that somehow my rage made me more violent, more aggressive, and more impulsive on drastic actions. I saw a bit of red in my vision and briefly wondered some rather morbid thoughts. I twistedly smirked as I wondered if the Headmaster would still call me weak if I took a knife or something sharp, turned it white hot with fire, and slowly pushed it into his cruel, ice cold heart until. . . I widened my eyes, my expression turning to slight fear as I scared myself with my own thoughts. Why was I thinking such things? That was treason against the people who created me! I shook my head slightly and listened to the rest of the conversation.

"Excellent," the stranger responded, "How soon can she be used?"

I widened my eyes in surprise and shock. _Used? _Used for what, exactly? Did I even want to know?

"In time, my friend, in time. She just needs a bit more training and then she can be of more use to us."

"And in time," the stranger answered, "We will be the most powerful force alive. But now, I think it is time that I left."

"Indeed, I think we have covered everything you needed to discuss."

Once the stranger left, I tried to process all that I had heard. What did they want to use me for? I didn't really want to find out, especially with how unpredictable the Headmaster was. I decided to try and get out of the vent as quickly as possible before I was discovered. If anyone managed to find out about my eavesdropping and snooping about, I would end up worse than dead. As I backed away from the grate, I made a clumsy mistake and accidentally banged my head against the ceiling of the vent, forgetting for a moment just how small it was. I cringed as the sound echoed into the conference room, and, to my utmost horror and despair, the Headmaster was still in there. He looked up at the grate and glared venomously into my frightened eyes, making my heart stop cold in its tracks. I had been seen.


	12. Discovered

**Hey, everyone! Sorry it took me so long to post this update! I got a bit of a case of the dreaded Writer's Block and couldn't think of what to write down. I mean, I knew what I wanted to put down, but I didn't know how to word it. Anyway, this chapter's kind of short, but it's finally an update. I hope you enjoy it!**

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I needed to get away. I needed to escape and get out of the vent. I struggled to back away, but my shirt got caught on one of the corners and I was too weak to get myself free. I was afraid, and struggled even more in a more frantic fashion as I heard the Headmaster getting closer to my hiding place. Before I knew it, or could even prepare for it, the Headmaster wrenched open the grate, pulling me out of the vent roughly by my hair and freeing me from my space. I let out a cry of pain, my eyes shut tight. "Spying," he hissed, yanking on my hair and causing me to cry out again, "Spying on your own people! Why?"

His voice frightened me, almost as much as the man himself scared me. I was so afraid that I couldn't come up with a good reason to give my Master, and I only ended up stuttering, "I-I don't k-know."

He threw me against the wall harshly, causing a jolt of pain to course through my body and knocking the wind out of me briefly. He held me up again by my hair, locking me into a painful, iron grip. "You know perfectly well, why!" he hissed venomously, "Do not play dumb with me, traitor!"

I let out another cry of pain, the blur of tears leaking out of my eyes. "I-I'm not a traitor!"

"Then why were you eavesdropping?" the Headmaster growled. Again, I didn't know what to say, so I only kept my mouth shut this time. I avoided looking at him, and after a few moments of my silence, he slapped me across the face for not answering him. "Tell me!" he shouted.

I let out a grunt of pain, my face turned away from him and my eyes fighting to keep the tears back, to keep them from leaking out, to keep me from showing weakness. I felt so stupid, and so scared. Why did I do such an idiotic thing? Why did I have to be so curious? It got me in much more trouble than I ever wanted, and now I'd be punished severely, maybe . . . maybe even getting myself dragged to the torture chambers. I gulped at this thought and decided to finally try to answer the Headmaster. I opened my mouth to reply, but no sound came out of my mouth. I was too upset to speak, and a lump formed in my throat.

"Who sent you?" he snarled, grabbing me by the shoulders and twisting them, squeezing my shoulders so tightly that I let out another cry of pain. "Answer me!"

I gritted my teeth and closed my eyes, taking a few shuddering breaths to get enough strength to finally give him an answer, "N-No one sent me!" I whimpered, and cursed myself silently for such a pitiful answer. How was I supposed to prove that I was strong when I sounded so pitiful when being treated like this?

"Then why are you here when you were told to stay in your room?!"

I winced as he harshly twisted one of my arms, and my willpower shattered. I started leaking out small tears and tried my best to keep him from seeing them. "I-I don't know! I was just curious!"

"Curious?" he chuckled darkly, a chuckle that frightened me and sent chills down my spine, "Curious, you say? A foolish, idiotic reason to spy. And now, you will pay dearly for it."

I gulped and closed my eyes tightly; awaiting my punishment and just praying that it would all be over soon. I felt myself being dragged away by two guards and futilely fought to try and free myself of their grip, but they were too strong for me. I was thrown into a small, empty brick room and then beaten senseless by the guards. Once they were done, I was left alone in the room, my body covered in bruises and cuts with blood leaking from my nose. I shuddered, wiping away the blood and standing up on shaky legs from where I was huddled in the corner. I used the wall for support to help me as I shuffled back to my prison cell of a room. Along the way, I had to spit blood out from my mouth to try and get rid of the coppery tang.

Once in my room, I went immediately to one of the far corners, huddled there, hugging my knees, and finally letting out all of the tears that had wanted to spill a long time ago. I couldn't cry in front of other people, they'd only think me weak again. When I was finally done crying, I wiped the tears from my eyes and looked up at the window, sighing sadly. I hated this place much more than I could possibly imagine. I needed to get out of this hellhole that I lived in, but how? It was futile, there were too many guards, too many intricate security systems.

All possible exits were blocked. My only comfort that there was something other than the base was the window to the outside. But even looking out of the window was torture to me. I could see the grass, the trees, the animals, the sky, all taunting me, laughing at my entrapment. No matter how much or how long I wished, prayed, dreamed, or stared so longingly out the window, I knew I would never be able to be free. I was in a living nightmare, experiencing hellish horrors every single day, and escape was nearly impossible. I sighed, letting the little bit of hope I had left free, resting my head on my knees and closing my eyes in dejection. There was absolutely no hope left in the day, only the dread of seeing the Headmaster again for training.


	13. Growing Insanity

**Hey everyone! Got the next chapter up today! This time you won't have to wait nearly as long as before, because it seems so far that I got out of my Writer's Block there. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!**

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The following days after my punishment were awful during training. The Headmaster was even more brutal with his methods of teaching, which was a feat that I did not think possible. Thankfully, my improved skills helped me dodge his hard hits for often than before. Although, when he did manage to hit me, the punches and kicks killed. They left me dizzy and disoriented, giving me huge welts and torturous migraines. During these awful times, I was always tempted to use my flames against him. I was always tempted to melt his face with my flames fueled by an immense, burning hatred and grin a twisted, wolfish grin as I slowly peeled away the weakened skin and relished his spilled blood that would follow. . . I stopped my train of demented thoughts out of fear. My thoughts always seemed to scare me like this now. It was obvious that my mind had been so corrupted by this place that all I could think of was slowly and sadistically torturing my creator. And it frightened me. It was as if, in the back of my mind, all who I really was, all who I would really become, was this evil, emotionless, cruel, cold-hearted murderer. My mind was twisted, my heart was dark. Alik and Anya would disapprove of my nightmarish imaginations, but I couldn't help it. This place, this little piece of hell, was vastly changing me, ripping away my innocent mask of childhood and replacing it with only bloodlust and corruption.

However, the worst part of my training was not the brutal hits of the Headmaster, or my speedily draining sanity. The worst part of my training was the fact that the Headmaster was dead silent. He gave me absolutely no hints, no tips, not even a bit of praise. How was I supposed to know if I was improving when not even a single word escaped his lips? Despite this fact, I kept improving myself through practice in all of the fields I was trained in. The horrible months passed tediously, slowly turning themselves into years, and with each passing day I found my sanity slipping further and further away. My prison cell walls confirmed this for me. They were whispering behind my back, laughing at me, mocking my frazzled state. They even coldly scoffed and reminded me that no one celebrated my birthdays with me. How sad. The walls seemed to be my only companions, but they weren't very nice. They always said that I shouldn't have been born, but I couldn't help that. I couldn't shut them up, either, and just had to endure their harsh words. I had to ignore the dancing shadows that always tried to grab me and engulf me in their dark stomachs.

Soon, though, when I thought I would never see the end of training, a guard entered my room. It was the routine tradition of following the escort, but I was soon able to realize that the route had changed. I was nine at this time; my perception of my small world had changed greatly. No longer did I see it as a home, as a safe house, no longer did I see it with innocent, child eyes. I now knew that everything and everyone was against me, that the walls weren't safe with their constant changing, their constant state of closing in on me to crush my tiny body, the base was a cruel home for only the wicked to enjoy, and I dreaded that the outside world would most likely be just as dark, if not darker.

The guard led me down the winding corridors and up a few flights of stairs, leading to even more corridors. It was repetitive, and tedious, and everything looked the same as the floor I lived on. Would this place ever have something new and exciting to it? Would it ever have something nice, happy, and inviting instead of the usual dark, dreadful, corrupt world it normally was? I felt it was impossible at this point. I've been wandering in this hellhole for nine years, and training in its depths for three. Absolutely nothing had changed. The only thing that came and went were the people that lived in it, but I always remained, just like the walls. We kept walking a straight path down the halls until the guard opened the door to a large room with a huge screen exhibiting a map. I stared at the map in hidden awe. I had never seen a map before, and although I still couldn't read, for the Headmaster never felt like getting someone to teach me, I had the feeling that the largest country I saw on the map was Russia. My homeland was larger than I thought.

The Headmaster was seated at the head of a large, black table with his many generals and advisors sitting on either side of the table. The guard that had escorted me bowed briefly to the men sitting and left when he was dismissed. I only stood there, staring at the floor and avoiding eye contact. I didn't feel like getting in trouble again. "Ah, so this is the experiment," an old, wise looking man with graying hair said, "Brought from the deep bowels of the base."

The Headmaster simply nodded.

"She looks a bit too tiny to be this so-called 'ultimate weapon'," a younger man with black hair responded.

I clenched my fists slightly. _Tiny, was it? Perhaps I should cut out that tongue of yours and fuse that idiotic mouth shut. Maybe, while I'm at it, I'll rip out your jugular and melt it to your face and watch you choke on your own blood. Would you still speak so arrogantly after such damage? I'd love to hear you scream in fear, in terror of my hellish flames as you slowly bleed to death. . . _I blocked out the bickering of the counsel when I focused on the walls, hearing them talking and laughing at me and snapping me out of my demented thoughts.

"You are tiny, though," the metal wall to my left laughed.

I ignored her stupid voice; I wouldn't talk to them, not at all, because they would never shut up unless I ignored them. They couldn't best me, I had a brain, and they were only sheets of metal that fire could melt at the right temperature.

"More like a pipsqueak!" the stupid wall to the far end exclaimed. His response caused all of the others to laugh at me.

"And to think," the right wall added, "she was supposed to be a weapon to be used by Hydra. I bet they were quite disappointed when this little creature came to be the result of their efforts."

I clenched my fists tighter, staring at the floor I was standing on. I couldn't take any more of their mockery and broke my one rule, I talked to them, "Shut up," I muttered under my breath.

"What was that?" the end wall asked, "I couldn't hear you! Are you so weak that you're unable to speak up anymore?"

I was about to yell my answer to him, but the voice of the Headmaster addressing me brought me back to what the humans were saying. "Project Z, show them."

I snapped my head up, giving him an emotionless stare. I had learned by now that any form of emotion was bad. Emotions were weakness. I couldn't be weak. I had to show them I could be strong. I had to show everyone, the people, the animals, the walls, I had to show them all. "Hmm? What?" I asked as calmly as I could.

"Show them your power," he repeated, "Your fire."

"Am I ready to demonstrate such things?" I asked.

"You are ready when I say so and I say that the time is now!" he responded, raising his voice slightly for emphasis, "Show them!"

I gave him a lifeless stare for a moment before nodding slowly, "Very well. . ." I held up my hand, the palm facing upward. I concentrated on my hand, and soon, a small flame appeared out of nowhere. I stared at it intently and the flames increased in size, creating a good sized fireball. I ignored the astonished stares of the men in the room as I moved the flames around, ignoring the temptation to graze everyone's hair with my flames and returned the fireball to my hand, letting it float for a bit. This was my only balm, my only friend. These flames inflicted feelings upon me that I did not feel when around other people. Excitement. They allured me; they danced to their deadly tunes and brought me in with them, speaking to me in ways that no one else would understand. It was as if the flames were alive. I stared into their calming light for a moment longer before finally extinguishing the flames. Once they were gone, and once I was devoid of their warmth, I crossed my arms and kept silent. I did not want to speak anymore.

"So, she can control these flames?" another man in the room asked, "Impressive. Does she know anything else?"

"Yes," the Headmaster replied, "I trained her personally."

"Do you think she's ready, though?" the young man with the black hair asked.

_You think me inadequate again, foolish man? Truly, I shall show you how ready I am when I turn you into a charred corpse! _I tensed my muscles to keep myself from flinging myself at the man. I really needed to keep my rage in check. At this rate, it would easily consume me.

"I believe she is," the Headmaster replied calmly.

"I do not think it wise to send a child on such an important mission," the older man with the graying hair inputted.

"As I said, I feel she's ready. But, you are right, it is completely foolish to send a mere child off to another country for such a task."

The man with the graying hair nodded, "Yes. Thank you for taking that into consideration."

"Which is why she will be escorted and under supervision by guards," the Headmaster finished.

"But sir," the man started to say.

"End of discussion."

I stood there in shocked silence at the whole thing. I'd finally get to go outside. I'd finally see the world outside of this wretched hellhole! I was both excited and overwhelmed. Would it be as wonderful as Anya had described? Or would it be as awful as the Hydra base I occupied? More importantly, what was this important mission that I was to be sent on? Was it extremely dangerous? Did the Headmaster just want to get rid of me? So many questions with so little answers, it frustrated me so.


	14. A New World

**Hey, everyone! Sorry it's been so long since I've updated my story on here! I've just been so busy these past few weeks and didn't have much time to write. But now I finally got this chapter done and am well on my way to completing the next one! Enjoy!**

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The first thing that had to be done to me was to get myself all cleaned up. Apparently I would be less conspicuous if I didn't look like a "mangy little kid". I was given a rough and thorough washing, the first one I've had ever since . . . well . . . ever since I was born. I know, it's disgusting but they never gave me time to clean myself up with all of the training and locking me in my cell ever since I eavesdropped. It took forever because my matted hair needed to be untangled as well and I thought I would never get out of the washing rooms. I was given a pair of fresh, clean clothes after my bath of terror and was sent straight to my room to change into them. Once I was in the new clothes I had gotten, I looked at myself in the mirror. I looked like an entirely different person. My pale skin, instead of being cut, bruised, and smudged with filth, was clean and had a healthy shine to it. My hair was no longer a mass of dirty tangles; it was a smooth, dark brown waterfall that cascaded down my shoulders. I tentatively touched my hair and found it smooth and soft to the touch.

I wore a long, light blue dress with a white underskirt and fancy, black dress shoes. My old clothes looked like a ragged potato sack compared to these, and that was no exaggeration. I'm pretty sure my old clothes actually _were _made from an old potato sack. But, even though I actually looked nice and didn't look like a kid that had absolutely no hygienic health, it felt weird, and it looked weird. I was so used to seeing myself as filthy scum that the girl in the mirror, even though I knew she was me, was still a total stranger, an alien. The only thing that hadn't changed was my eyes. That odd magenta shade forever dulled with pain. No matter what, I would never be able to truly hide those eyes. Perhaps Hydra intended it to be that way. Even if I managed to escape and run off, they'd merely have to ask around for the girl with the alien eyes. I sighed and turned away from the mirror, I couldn't bear to look at myself. Under the guise of cleanliness that was thrust upon me, I was still a filthy, disgusting rat.

The sound of the door knocking made me look to the sound. I opened the door and stepped back as a large group of guards stepped into the room. "Are you ready to go?" a scarred, seasoned veteran guard asked gruffly.

I nodded, "Yes. But if you mind my asking, where are we going?"

"Paris," he responded simply. I tilted my head to the side with a confused look on my face. What was this Paris he spoke of? I never could read a map very well or . . . anything for that matter. . . "You know," he continued after noticing my expression, "in France? Known for the Eiffel Tower? Don't you know about it?"

I shook my head, "Afraid not. I've never even been outside."

"Not at all?"

"No. . . I've seen the outside through my window, but that's about it."

"Well, today will be an interesting day for you then, huh?"

I nodded briefly and then followed the group. As we walked, I calculated all of the guards that were escorting me with careful eyes. Making a run for it would be impossible because of the sheer fact that all of the men were seasoned veterans, extremely strong, well-trained, and prepared for anything thrown at them. Besides, it wouldn't surprise me if there were even more guards watching us in the shadows to make sure I stayed loyal and didn't try to escape. Honestly, with this treatment, how could I not feel like a prisoner? We were slowly but surely approaching two large, metal doors that most likely led to the outside world. I was both excited and dismayed. I'd finally get to go outside, but after further inspection I knew that the exit was guarded heavily, meaning that I could never leave on my own accord and could only go outside for missions.

I stood there and watched in wonder as the humongous doors slowly swung open and squinted my eyes as the light of the sun hit my eyes for the first time in my life. My window was always in the shadows, so I had never seen the sunlight like I was currently. The light hurt my eyes slightly, but I grew accustomed to it after a few moments. I was led outside and my eyes widened at the beautiful sight around me. A rough, gravel road was under my feet and I bent down to inspect it, holding up a rock and feeling its coarse, hard surface. So that's what a rock looked like. . . I stood up and dropped the rock, and, despite my need to keep calm and professional, I rushed to the lush, green grass nearby and sat on my knees, feeling the blades of the grass with my hands. It felt cool and wet with dew, and it was so soft! Much softer than the itchy bed I had to sleep in all of the time. Perhaps I'd sneak some grass in with my on my way back to soften up my sleeping arrangements. I smiled and picked a small, yellow flower beside me and looked at it curiously, amazed by the vibrant colors of the flower. I watched small insects fly by with curious eyes and wondered how they could fly like that before my attention was drawn to the peaceful, blue sky and the white, fluffy clouds that dotted it.

I snapped out of my childish wonder when I heard a nearby guard clear his throat and looked up to my mass of escorts, each one of them with an annoyed look on their faces. It was obviously because of my reactions, but how could they blame me? I was a child that had never before been outside! I regained my composure with a sheepish glance at the ground and smoothed out my dress, placing the yellow flower I was holding into a small pocket as a reminder of my first day outside. I walked as calmly as I could between my escorts as we boarded a jet, that was rather dull looking in comparison with the vibrant world around it, and flew off toward Paris.


	15. Mission

**Hey everyone! Got the next chapter up quickly this time, so you won't have to be waiting as long as you have for some of them. This is a really long chapter, but enjoy!**

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When we were close to the city, I could barely hold my excitement. For once, I was finally far away from the base of my home. The Hydra base had always held a dreary, yet painful air to it, and although the guards seemed to bring a bit of that atmosphere with them, it wasn't nearly as noticeable as at home, if the base could even be called a home. The pilot landed the plane a few miles away from Paris in a nice, concealed area so that it wouldn't be noticed. Then, the guards led me to a normal looking car where we drove the rest of the distance. When we reached the city, I stared in total awe at the new world around me. There were so many people bustling around, working, playing, or even relaxing and shopping. I had never seen so many people before, and it was so much happier and more colorful than Hydra. Why couldn't I be born here instead? The driver of the car we were in pulled into a nearby restaurant and parked in an empty space. We exited and I finally got a really good look at the city. I was overwhelmed by the sheer size of it. Paris was nothing like the small world I had been brought into, and suddenly it dawned on me that this city, this seemingly large city, was merely a small point on the Earth. That fact made me feel even more small and insignificant than I had already believed myself to be.

I looked at all of the guards, each of them dressed in ordinary clothes to disguise themselves among the people and look like every day pedestrians. They seemed unfazed by the sheer size of the city, or its Eiffel Tower. I didn't know what the Eiffel Tower looked like, but I had a feeling that it was the large, metal, pointed tower in the far distance that greatly loomed over the rest of the city. How could people build such large structures? I jumped slightly when the most seasoned guard in our group elbowed me lightly to get my attention. I turned to face him, my mind still somewhat on the tower I had seen. "While we're here, we must keep in disguise," he said in a hushed tone, "To make it convincing, I am to pose as your father, and the others are random citizens. You're not to speak to anyone, and if you must speak, speak to only the guards, including myself. Speak in hushed tones only, if you must, because if any native citizen hears you, they'll immediately know where you're from and that could potentially jeopardize the mission. Understood?"

I nodded and opened my mouth to reply, but stopped and closed it instead, remembering that I couldn't talk at this time.

"Good," he said, and started walking down the sidewalk, with me following closely behind him. "We'll take this time right now to brief you on your mission, so pay attention."

I nodded, but couldn't help the fact that my mind instantly started wandering again as we walked through the magical city. I was so excited about my new surroundings that I didn't even hear him and was busy staring at the new sights. I noticed, shortly after reaching the city that the people here spoke an entirely different language than in Russia. Were there even more languages than this new one I discovered? How many languages were there out in the world? Did every country speak a different language? I was longing to find out.

"Hey!" the veteran guard beside me said, snapping his fingers in front of my face, "You paying attention, or what?"

I jumped slightly and looked up at him, "What? Oh, sorry! Could . . . could you repeat the briefing please?" I said quietly, remembering his rules, and looked down at the ground sheepishly. I really needed to stop spacing out.

He sighed and repeated himself, "You're infiltrating an enemy base to receive a tan file with important and beneficial information in it. You need to also avoid getting caught."

I nodded, and remembered that I still couldn't read anything, let alone anything that could potentially be written in a foreign language, "How will I know if I have the right file?"

"When you look inside of it, you should see a picture of an odd, crystalline object with box-like markings."

I nodded. And then, another question formed in my mind due to my bad case of curiosity. I never did know when to stop asking questions. "Why is the Headmaster sending a little kid like me to do the job?"

The veteran shrugged, "He wants you to prove your worth to Hydra by completing missions like this one. Plus, he's a firm believer in learning on the job. Think of it as part of your training." I nodded, and we continued walking, with me being silent and the guard telling me as much as he could about the base. We soon reached a darker part of the city when my escort spoke up again, "We're close to the location now. This is where you must go alone from this point. It's past that alleyway," he pointed to a dark alley across the street from us. I gave him a brief nod before heading towards the alley, but stopped when I heard him add, "And remember, we are always watching." As if to prove a point, a few well-disguised, muscled men gave small nods in my direction. Wow, they were really good at blending in! I didn't even notice them until they gestured at me.

I turned back slightly to face my escort and gave him a brief salute before continuing my trek towards the alley, towards my target. As I walked, I sighed sadly. There went my escape plans. They'd know if I went missing without me even knowing where they were. Besides, I did not feel inclined to invoke the Headmaster's wrath again. I shuddered at the memory of three years ago when I had eavesdropped on him again. What would he do if I tried to escape and they found me? I couldn't bear to think of such consequences. I looked up at the ominously looming buildings around me and suddenly felt utterly overwhelmed. I felt so small and tiny, as if the city itself could swallow me whole. I had never seen buildings so tall before, for I had hardly even seen the Hydra base from the outside. I shook my head and weaved my way carefully through the citizens, not even paying attention to the odd language they spoke. Soon, I found the back alleyway in the city and silently entered that way, the directions the guard had given me during our walk repeating over and over in my mind.

Eventually, I found the base I had to infiltrate and hid behind a nearby dumpster, peeking up tentatively and taking in my surroundings. There was a large, chain link fence topped with cruel, twisted barbed wire and guards in blue uniforms posted all over the place. There were watchtowers with spotlights that swooped in large arches, and in the center of all of the organized chaos lay the base, heavily guarded. I furrowed my brow in frustration. I had to go through all of _that_? Was the Headmaster trying to kill me, or what? I cleared my mind of my troublesome thoughts and focused instead on the task at hand. Get in. Get the file. Get out. And, of course, don't get caught. Would I truly be able to do this? I scanned the area for an open spot and once I found one, near a few parked vehicles, I snuck my way over to the fence, using anything in the area to hide myself.

I studied the fence carefully and lightly shook it, trying to reduce any noise. I found it was loose at the bottom here. I carefully pulled up the fence there as quietly as possible and thankfully, due to my small size, I was able to crawl under the fence without making too big of a hole. The smaller the better. Small was unnoticeable. Once I was on the other side, I hid behind one of the parked machinery. I peeked around it carefully and studied the entrance. I stared at the guards by the entrance, there were two of them, as far as I could see. I wondered how I could quietly eliminate them. I considered using stones to temporarily distract them, but that wouldn't work with the time I would need to get past the watchtowers. Breaking the lights would draw too much attention. I sighed, there was another option, but it involved killing the guards and I didn't know if I could pull it off. I took a deep breath and though back on my training, remembering the secrets to my flame-conjuring abilities. If I simply imagined where the fire was, how hot it was, and willed it to be there, then my wishes would become reality.

I stared intently at the guard posted closest to me, visualizing his body structure and, more importantly, his throat. I imagined a rather gruesome image; one of flames growing inside his throat and fusing it shut so he couldn't make a noise or breathe. That exact same thing happened to the man. I knew, because I saw him clutch his throat, his eyes filled with an immeasurable amount of pain and a light underneath his skin. He choked out sick, gurgling sounds, his panic rising until he stood no more. I smirked slightly at my success, my dementia taking over as I mercilessly did the same thing to the other guard.

When both of them were dead, I waited until both watchtower lights were away from the entrance before dashing across the grounds, using my flames to help me break through the door quickly and silently. Once I was inside the base, the rest of the route was pretty straightforward. I snuck around the halls, keeping to the shadows and trying to avoid being seen at all costs. I had to check every room in the hall due to my illiteracy, but I finally found a room that seemed to be one to hold files like the one I was looking for. It looked like a conference room, but it was filled with cabinets with many drawers, each of them potentially being able to hold a file and each being able to hide a seemingly infinite number of them in my eyes. I sighed dejectedly. This would take a while. I went to the end of the room and slumped against the wall after looking and seeing all of the filing cabinets. In my frustration, I grabbed a painting on the wall next to me and threw it off of the wall. To my greatest luck and surprise, a safe was hidden behind the painting, tucked in a small hole in the wall. Perhaps the file was in there. It made sense, since the file was seemingly important. I stared at a spinning dial marked with odd characters on the safe. I couldn't unlock the safe that way, so I simply drew a circle on the door with white hot flames and pulled out the circle, setting it aside and taking out a tan file. I opened it, seeing the picture that the veteran guard had described to me. I smiled in triumph and held the file close to me as I made my way back out.

I took a route similar to my way in by staying in the shadows. Once I was well away from the base, I went to the street where I had last seen the Hydra guards where I found my escort, the veteran, who led me back to the car, which we decided would be our rendezvous point since all of the guards were spread out and hidden very well. There, we continued conversation on the mission as I handed my escort the file. "Excellent," he said while leafing through the folder, "You got the right one. Did anyone see you?"

I shook my head and dusted a bit of dirt off of my dress. It was nice and I wanted to keep it for a while longer, since it wasn't itchy or dirty like my potato sack of an old outfit.

"Good. Let's get out of here before anyone notices that it's missing." At that, we all swiftly entered the car and drove to where the pilot had landed the plane, boarding it and making our way home. I looked out of the window and sighed, watching as Paris shrunk before my eyes. I was leaving the magical city of light and returning to my dark, dreary prison of a home. The whole time I couldn't help but think of a question that nagged constantly at my mind. What was so important about that file?


	16. A Sickness of the Mind

**All right, so here's the next chapter! Again, sorry it took me a little longer than normal to get this one up, but hopefully it was worth the wait! And it only gets more intense in the future! **

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The missions the Headmaster sent me on continued at odd intervals whenever he felt I was needed to be used. Used . . . oh, how I _hated _that word. It made me feel like nothing but a tool to the people who had created me. At first, I was excited about them. I'd get to go outside, see new places, leave the boring containment of my cell, and get new disguises that I could wear later after the mission as well. However, my excitement for them diminished after each and every mission. At first, they were nothing but simple infiltration missions. I enjoyed those. It tested me against my stealth abilities, but then they turned dark. They'd send me out to raid innocent towns for precious "artifacts". They had brainwashed me into believing that each of these towns were evil, but after investigation, I learned that it was the exact opposite. The people were only protecting what was rightfully theirs. They did nothing wrong! I knew that raiding the towns was wrong, but I couldn't defy the Headmaster or else he'd torture me. I had learned that the hard way after I found out the towns were innocent. I was afraid of him. I couldn't be brave enough to stand up for what I knew was right, so I tried to find the safest way to retrieve the items. Sometimes, it was unavoidable.

My last mission had held more pain than I could possibly imagine. Hydra had sent me to a small village in a country called Norway to retrieve a piece of an otherworldly artifact. It was a part of that odd, crystalline object that I had retrieved a file about. The base in France had only been researching one piece of it, but the whole thing had been broken up into many pieces that were scattered all over the world. We located one in Norway. We had set up a small base with a bit of everything our home base had in anticipation for a long mission this time. We had nurses, scientists, and of course, the guards. The Headmaster himself even joined us on this mission; apparently the artifact was essential to Hydra's research.

The mission itself seemed rather simple, but it was much harder than I thought. I had talked to the people when Hydra wasn't looking and apparently they revered it as a sacred artifact and would only let those who were worthy touch it. They said it was a gift from their gods, and they'd watch it until a worthy being found it. According to the village, I wasn't worthy in the eyes of the gods they worshipped. Further investigation through infiltration showed that they watched the shard every day and night constantly and diligently, and I didn't want to kill these people for doing what they believed to be right. I went to talk to my Headmaster back at our temporary base and simply told him that I was unable to get the artifact. The response was ugly.

He had grinned twistedly at me, a maniacal glint in his cruel eyes. "Really now? Is that right?"

I nodded slightly, extremely wary of his expression.

"I think you're lying. You haven't tried all of the options; I can see it clearly on your face! Just kill them!"

I couldn't bring myself to kill yet another innocent town. All of those innocent people didn't deserve to die. They seemed so kind and good. "I can't, Headmaster," I said quietly. I had had enough of my line of work.

"Why not?"

"They did nothing wrong!"

"They are obstacles in our way, eliminate them."

I stared at him in shock. Did he not value life? How precious it was? Was it nothing to him? Truly, he had no heart. I clenched my fists and narrowed my eyes in defiance, growing tired of his cruelty. "No. I can't just murder these people. It's going way too far!"

"Do you not remember the last time you said that?"

I flinched slightly and looked at my arm; it was covered in scars from his sword, as was a bit of my back. "I remember it," I said softly, and then raised my voice, "It won't affect me anymore. Your technique of discipline is old and used too much on me."

He narrowed his eyes into a dangerous glare, "Is that so?"

I nodded, holding my ground, but faltering slightly at his frightening expression. Even in my earlier youth, I had never seen him like this before.

"Very well. . ." He snapped his fingers and, to my utter horror, Anya was dragged out of a nearby Medicine Tent, struggling against the strong grip of guards holding her arms. She was brought to her knees before the Headmaster, who drew his sword and pressed it against her neck, not cutting the skin, but definitely touching it. He looked at me with a look of sheer madness, "Do it or your "mother" will stand no more!" he snarled with a cruel laugh.

I stared at him with eyes as wide as an owl's. He was utterly insane! How could he have lead Hydra for so long like this?! "Y-You wouldn't!" I stuttered, "She's one of your best nurses!"

"People are disposable," he said emotionlessly.

"D-Don't hurt her!" I shouted with a trembling voice.

He pressed his swords a bit harder, closer to slicing her skin and causing Anya to shudder in fear. "Will you do as I say?"

I stopped, looking at Anya and the Headmaster. Anya would want me to do what was right, and it was completely painful to say, "I-I can't!"

The Headmaster clicked his tongue, "A pity. . ." He slowly drew his sword across Anya's neck, drawing blood out of a currently shallow cut and causing Anya to cry out and whimper in pain.

That triggered my rage. "STOP!" I screamed, my whole body catching on fire in a small explosion from my sudden burst of fury.

The Headmaster paused and looked at me, "Will you behave?"

I couldn't answer him; my vision was filling with red. Hearing Anya in pain triggered a deep anger far, far greater and more evil than my normal rage. It was as if my body had now just unlocked its true purpose. My mind filled with twisted thoughts of death and a world filled with hellish flames. Then, I moved. I didn't even remember myself willing to move, but I did, as if something else was controlling me. It was all a blur, I couldn't see or even hear what I was doing. All I knew was that I was enraged and needed to vent out my fury. By the time my rage had subsided, I stood in the middle of the village, my breathing heavy and the whole place in flames. There was no movement in the town, and I saw a charred corpse nearby. I stood there in complete confusion for a moment. I didn't remember getting to the village, or anything that had happened here. And then, suddenly, it all clicked into place. My eyes widened in horror. I . . . killed them. . . I stared at the Headmaster who seemed . . . _impressed_ by my horrible deed. "Well then," he said, before slitting Anya's throat. She let out a scream before she started gurgling and choking on her own blood and dying.

"ANYA!" I screamed, a wave of tears running down my cheeks. I ran to her body and knelt beside her, my vision blurred by my sobbing. "No . . . no . . . you can't be dead, you can't!" I held her in my arms, hiccupping and bawling at the sight of her dead body, her eyes frozen in an open expression of fear. "Wake up," I sniffled, "please. . . I need you. . ." Warmth was already leaving her body. I buried my face in her neck, not even caring if I got blood on my face or not.

"Take her back to the base," the Headmaster said stoically.

I felt guards grab my arms and I started kicking and screaming in defiance. "No! No! NO! I'm not going back! Leave me here! Leave me with Anya! NO!" I was unwillingly dragged back to the plane and sent home to Russia. I had to be tied to a chair to keep me from trying to get off of the plane, and my tears didn't stop for the whole trip.


	17. Discipline

**Okay, so here's the next chapter! And soon, we shall finally reach the chapters where it REALLY becomes a Captain America fanfiction. Anyway, enjoy!**

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It had now been weeks since I had lost Anya, but I noticed one terrible thing. Ever since Anya died, my sanity drained at a much faster rate. I had no one to talk to. Alik, my only other friend, had been sent to a different base to work as part of a promotion. Obviously, with how esteemed the position was, he couldn't refuse. I didn't blame him. Lots of people here wanted to get out of this base. It was dark and frightening, even the guards sometimes had nightmares of the horrors lying in wait for them. I was still stuck here, though, and it seemed like I would be in this base forever. I had never felt so alone before. Not even the walls could keep me company anymore, for I grew tired of their harsh words.

The longer I stayed here, the more my dementia grew. It had grown so severe that I had started scratching messages into my cell walls with the coin Anya had given me a long time ago. My messages all over the walls ranged from "help me" to "they're watching" to "the voices don't know how to shut up". Some of the messages made absolutely no sense, like "the muffin's been eating the cranberries again". Well, it made sense to me in my mind, at the time. I tallied the passing days, hoping that one day I'd finally get out of this hellhole. I drew wide open eyes and grasping hands on the wall, along with graphic pictures of people being burned alive. When my coin would no longer suffice as a drawing utensil, I started scratching the walls with my own fingernails until my fingers bled. And this obsessive process continued for days on end. Sometimes, I'd even use the blood from my fingers as my ink. I felt as if there was this constant, angry presence that urged me to draw compulsively, or else I would die. My fingers couldn't take it, but I had to keep drawing. My broken mind was urging me to.

The guards showed little to no concern with my new hobby and would only show up to feed me or take me to brush up training. There had been no missions for a while. By the time there was a mission, I was mentally a wreck. I kept staring off into space as if there was something there, sometimes I could've sworn seeing a shadowy figure in the distance, tall and proud and ominous. I grew paranoia of constantly being watched. I could barely pay any attention to the briefing of the mission. The location was not too far away from our base. I was to raid another small town. I sighed at the notion of it. This was getting boring, and it was bad for my brain. I couldn't handle seeing more death.

When pressed by the Headmaster to kill the people in our way, I stood there. I stood there and contemplated his order. He had taken everything from me. My friend, my mother, my innocence, my sanity, all of them gone. What more could he possibly take away from me? I shrugged, stared at my master for a moment, thinking over the options. I had already been hurt a lot, and I had nothing left to believe in. If I refused, he had no one to use as bait for me to snap again, and I'd save many lives instead of adding more to my already high kill count. I looked around, and just right up walked away from the town. I was done killing people. I could still hear the screams of the people I had killed last time, and I wanted to make up for it, to stop the voices, to stop the screams. I glanced back at the Headmaster, who gave me a glare filled with poison over my disobedience. I no longer cared, however, and willingly let the guards drag me back to the base.

I expected to just be sent straight back to my cell, but they kept dragging me further down the hall, and dragging me down the stair. Down, down, and down we went through the dark stairwells, past the labs, past the testing chambers. I widened my eyes in horror as I realized where they were taking me. I was being dragged to the torture chambers. I flailed my arms now, trying to get away this time. I didn't want to go there! I had heard the screams of the tortured double agents come from there, and they sounded like they were in immeasurable pain. I couldn't handle that treatment! Unfortunately, despite my attempts, the guards' grips were too strong. They threw me into the chambers once we reached the room and locked me into the main room where I awaited my punishment. I wanted to get out of there, but escape was futile. The only exit was locked, and my mind was too scattered to concentrate on my flame-conjuring.

I paced restlessly, occasionally scratching into the walls, begging for help, praying for it, wanting escape more than anything else in the world, a life free from this madness and torment. It was the only thing I could do now, and I prayed that my punishment would not be too horrible. Soon, the Headmaster entered the room, his eyes narrowed in a murderous glare with a glint of sheer insanity. I was not the only one here with a sick mind. I gulped at his frightening expression, my hopes diminishing the more I stared at him. I was so terrified that I couldn't even scream as he roughly grabbed my hands and bound them together, as well as my feet. He dragged me to the first room, leading me to a large, wooding wheel with largely spaced spokes. Beside it was a large, wooden sledgehammer that was stained with dried blood.

I shut my eyes tight as he tied me to the wheel and spun me around a few times. I waited for what seemed like forever in fright as he slowly raised the hammer. Then the pain came. I was not prepared by the time he brought the hammer down on my left arm and brought with it a sickening crack. The sound of my bones snapping. I let out a blood-curdling scream as tears ran down my face as I felt an immeasurable amount of pain. I could not even open my eyes to see how bad the injury was. Then, he used the same treatment on my other arm and my legs, each hit coming with a crack and a scream from me. I had screamed in pain for so long that my throat was burning.

The Headmaster then dragged my broken body to a second room, chaining my feet to a weight on the floor and chaining my arms behind my back. He slowly turned a crank attached to the chains on my arm and slowly brought my arms back until my shoulders dislocated simultaneously. I let out a grunt of pain, clenching my teeth together and trying to stop the flow of tears from my eyes. I prayed that this torment would be over soon. Unfortunately, how wrong I was, to believe he was merciful. He was utterly insane. He was laughing at my pain, and my tears, and my breaking willpower. He dragged me to yet another room where a bronze bull stood in the middle with a pipe in its mouth. The Brazen Bull. I widened my eyes, but because of my broken limbs, I was unable to struggle free. He tossed me into the bull and locked me in there, lighting a fire underneath it and leaving me there for a long time. My panic rose as the heat did, and although I could handle fire well, when I was being cooked alive inside a bull for longer than most people, even my skin would start to get burned. I was yelling to be free, but, as the device was named, the Headmaster would only hear a bull braying angrily. I was left in there for what seemed like forever before he finally let me out. I had minor burns all over my body now. The sting of the burns was especially apparent in my broken limbs and cut fingers.

The Headmaster took me to a final room, chained me to the wall, and grinned cruelly at my frightened expression. "Like a rabbit caught in a trap," he said softly, sadistically, a wolfish grin on his face. I whimpered in fear and pain as he drew his sword, a weapon that glinted an ice cold light in the dim room. All I could do was sit there as he advanced and started to slice at me with his sword. I screamed and cried, my eyes letting out a continuous stream of tears. "This'll teach you obedience!" he snarled, laughing maniacally. He was insane! He had no mind, he had no heart! How the hell had he lived this long with such a sick soul? He sliced across my back, and I screamed until my throat was numb as I felt his sword dig into my back, drawing the sword slowly across it into the shape of a z, exposing bone in some areas. He eventually stopped slicing at me and chuckled at my sorry state before leaving me there in a pool of my own blood. The loss of blood and the trauma I had faced left me frazzled, and my vision started fading. I could barely see the faint silhouettes of people rushing towards me as everything faded to black.


	18. The Soldiers

**Woo! I finally got this up! I am so sorry for not updating in a while. I spent all weekend studying for exams, and we're finally done with school, so updating should be faster, until I go on vacation. But until then, I shall try to update as much as possible! This took a while to update today because I got distracted by watching one of my favorite animes. XD Sorry about that! I'll try to be more active in the future for you all! I already have another chapter written down and almost finished the next one after that, so hopefully those will be up soon for you to read! Enjoy!**

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When I finally awoke from my torture, I found myself laying down in a bright white room. My head was pounding and my entire body ached. It was like my first day of combat training, except for ten times worse on the pain scale. My eyes had to get adjusted to the lighting before I could actually see what was around me. I was on a bed, but it wasn't my own. The room was clean and there was no barred window. I finally realized that I was in the Medical Bay. I looked at myself, seeing I was in a loose hospital gown, I had gauze over the minor burns on my body, there were scars on my arms and stitches on my upper torso, at least ones that I could see. I probably had more underneath the gown. My limbs were also in casts near the areas they were broken. I hurt all over, and it sucked. I made a small grunt as I completely awoke, finding my throat to be sore from all of my screaming during my torture. I was thirsty and hungry.

A young nurse with shoulder length black hair looked up from a file she was reading in surprise. "Oh! You're finally awake!"

I raised an eyebrow slightly in confusion. Finally awake? "H-How long was I out?" I rasped weakly, finding it a little hard to speak.

"Two weeks," she said softly.

I looked at her in surprise. How the hell could I have been asleep for two weeks without dying?

"We had to have a system hooked up to keep you hydrated and fed," she explained when she saw my expression, "but your mouth must be dry, huh?"

I nodded, and she gave me water. Unfortunately, due to my condition, she poured the water into my mouth for me and fed me soft food with a spoon. The cool water soothed my throat, and I found it easier to speak, however, my voice was only a soft whisper, "How long will I be here?"

"As long as it takes for you to recover from your condition," she said, "so probably around three to five months, including the physical therapy."

I nodded, "O-Okay. . ." I let out a tiny sigh of relief; my recovery time would give me a nice break from my missions and training. It would also give me time to form an escape plan. I couldn't stay here any longer than I had to, that was certain. I didn't want to feel the Headmaster's wrath again, not after what he had put me through last time. I looked at the nurse that had tended to my hunger and thirst and said quietly, "What's your name?"

"I'm Sonya," she said in a bright voice, "I've been put in charge of watching over you during your recovery."

I smiled a bit at this. She seemed nicer than most of the nurses here, almost like Anya. . . "I'm Mischa," I said softly.

"Mischa? I was informed that you didn't have a name."

"I didn't, but Anya named me," I said softly, trying to keep myself from tearing up.

Sonya nodded sympathetically, "Ah, I heard about what happened. Sorry for your loss. . ."

I nodded, "Thank you. . ." Then I closed my eyes. Sonya let me rest there for a bit, keeping a close eye on me to see if my condition got any worse. I spent most of my early recovery days sleeping and letting Sonya feed me when I was unable to use my arms. When I was improving a bit more, I was able to sit up by myself. When Sonya noticed this, she would have me periodically move my arms to get my strength back in them gradually. She said I wouldn't be able to move very well if I didn't do this, and although that would've been a good excuse to get away from missions and training, I didn't want to be weak when escaping. Later, when my strength was improving further, she'd have me move my legs while I was sitting up so that I would be able to walk around when I was ready.

Months after these exercises, I was finally able to stand up and walk, although my gait was still unsteady and I had to sometimes use the wall or other objects to help support me. When I had finally gotten a steady stance after trying to find balance, I looked into the mirror I was standing in front of and examined my body for the first time in a while. I was a ghostly pale again from months of being inside, and my entire body was covered in scares. From my head to my toes, there were ranges of small and large scars. My once unscathed face now had several small scars on it, over my nose, under my eyes, across my forehead, everywhere. I sighed and touched my face softly before looking at my collarbone, noticing a medium sized scar across it. I noticed, however, that it stretched further than that. Seeing as no one else was around, I lifted up my shirt and examined my back. My jaw dropped open in shock. Across my back was a huge, jagged, z shaped scar that stretched all the way down to my hips. It was still somewhat raw. I quickly put my shirt back on and looked away from the mirror. I couldn't stand looking at what had happened to me. I couldn't stand looking at myself.

Suddenly, a blaring alarm rang through the building. I looked up in confusion; we had never had an alarm go off before. What was happing? A voice barking out orders in the speaker answered my question, "All units, get into your positions, we are under attack." I raised an eyebrow at this. Under attack? Someone finally found the Hydra base? I was curious to see who was attacking us, but the attacker was unimportant at the moment. First things first, I needed to get out of the base, and this attack was the perfect opportunity for me to escape. I walked, or more like hobbled, over to the exit of my room and tested the door knob. It was unlocked. I guess they assumed I wouldn't be exploring the base again for a while yet. I opened the door and immediately crawled on my hands and knees through the shadows. I was too unsteady for the full on sneaking crouch.

A little further on, the nurses were bustling around the main room preparing for wounded soldiers to come through. They were too busy to notice me going out of the door. I stuck to the shadows as much as I could while sneaking through the halls and hid behind stairs and open doors whenever I saw a group of soldiers running by. I followed the route to the exit I always took to get outside for missions, but I found the huge doors closed. Damn. I heard faint explosions from outside and my hopes rose a bit more. They were attacking from this entrance. The attackers might be able to break the door down! I heard the sound of incoming footsteps and dove behind a box of cargo. Peeking carefully out, I saw a large squadron of soldiers reach the gate. The huge doors swung open for them and they ran outside. Now was my chance! I ran towards the doors as they slowly started to close, keeping to the shadows and staying light on my feet to be on the safe side. As the doors started closing, I hurried my pace so that I wouldn't get shut in. I jumped through the doors just before they closed and dove into the nearest hiding place, a large bush beside the building. I couldn't believe it! I was finally out!

I peered out of the bushes to finally see who the attackers were. They were a bunch of soldiers in uniforms colored similarly to Hydra's. They held guns and used vehicles that could shoot. They weren't that different looking from Hydra's soldiers, aside from the fact that their technology was less advanced. Perhaps they were using science for other things, too. They were all the same, and that saddened me. All but one. One attacking soldier stood out from the rest. One man, of the attacking side, wore a red, white, and blue uniform with a star on his chest. He had short, blond hair and face containing strong facial features. The thing that stood out the most, however, was his weapon. He wielded not a gun, but a shield of the same coloring to his uniform and he used it like a weapon. He threw it, he bashed with it, and he defended not only himself, but his comrades with it. And it never broke. Nothing seemed to be able to penetrate the man's shield. The sight of this was intriguing, to say the least.

I frowned slightly as Hydra brought out one of their newer weapons, their fire throwers. They were men adorning heavy armor with weaponized arms that shot out fire. They surrounded the enemy soldiers and sprayed fire at them, and the foreign soldiers were retreating. It almost reminded me of when I used fire, but not quite. I inspected the situation with my cold, calculating eyes and decided to help my "enemies". They had done little to no harm to me and were inadvertently helping me escape the hell I was born in. I might as well return the favor and help them out a bit from behind the scenes. I stared at the fire throwers and shot the fire they were spraying back into their arms, hitting their source for the combustion and causing them to explode. The enemy soldiers, or my new allies, looked confused for a moment at the spontaneous combustion before rushing towards Hydra and resuming their attack. I smiled at my accomplishment and felt a bit rebellious. _Take that, Headmaster! _I grinned at the thought of how everyone would react to this, and how they would never be able to hurt me for it, since I would be gone, and looked at the soldiers one last time before sneaking away from my prison. When I was far enough away, I stood up and walked towards a new life without looking back. I walked towards Moscow.


	19. A Thief's Life

I was finally close to the city after a long journey of walking and inspected it carefully from the distance. It was a large city filled with people hurriedly rushing about. It wasn't quite as magical or whimsical as Paris, but one thing was certain, it was much better than Hydra; besides, I knew the language here and could understand what people were saying. I entered Moscow and looked around at my new surroundings. There were markets that served food, but it seemed I would be unable to get any. They used coins similar to what Anya gave me to trade for food, and I had left her coin back at the base. I sighed and continued my walk, scoping out a good place to stay. Any boarding house required coins, and I didn't trust people very well, but could I be blamed for that? Considering what the people of my own home had done to me, I had a good reason to be very wary of everyone here. After having to deal with my Headmaster, there was no doubt in my mind that there were more cruel people like him out in the world, and thinking of that made me uneasy. I had to regard everyone in this city as being like him, and so I kept my distance from everyone.

I stared at the people rushing by with wary eyes and slunk into the shadows, hiding in the alleys. I couldn't be seen by these people. There was no doubt that Hydra would look for me here once they noticed that I was missing. And if people saw my eye color, Hydra would only have to ask for a girl with my eye color and they would instantly know I was here. I'd have to find a way to get out of Russia, but the problem was that I had no clue how. I needed a safe place to stay until I found an answer. I looked around the alley I was in. It appeared to lead to nowhere, with nothing but a blank, brick wall at the end. It was small, dark, and nestled between a small boarding house and a small house. It was somewhat close to the markets I had seen earlier, and it appeared that no one seemed to go in this alley. Now, most people in their right minds wouldn't dare to live in such a dark place that I had chosen as my temporary home, but I had no choice, and I wasn't really in my right mind, either. I could live here for the time being and use my stealth skills to steal food and water for myself.

I smiled a bit. It seemed like a sound plan for a very temporary dwelling. But, of course, I needed to make things comfortable for myself as well. I took a walk around the city, memorizing where my alley was located and scoping out all of the best places for me to get food and water and anything else I needed for living. I also looked for a place to find a warm blanket to take. I soon came upon a large house that seemed very promising. I inspected the building from a safe distance to see where I could infiltrate it, and then memorized where it was before continuing on my walk to figure out the basic layout of the city. When night fell, I made my way back to the house I targeted and entered through a cellar door. I had nothing to pick the lock with, so I had to carefully burn a hole in the door for me to enter through it. I made a mental note to steal a few bobby pins at the market tomorrow for lock picking. Once inside, I snuck up to where I assumed the people would hold extra blankets and snagged a few for myself. When I made it successfully back to my alley without getting caught, I created my makeshift bed with the blankets and snuggled myself in the blankets. I fell asleep instantly. I spent the next day finding the best places to take food, pickpocketing a few snacks for myself along the way and remembering to snag a few bobby pins here and there as well. After I started getting used to the orientation of the city, I started making myself feel more at home in my alley. I'd steal cushions, pillows, candlesticks, plates, and even some silverware and then place them neatly in my corner. It didn't seem like a cozy life, but it was heaven compared to living at Hydra. No one told me what to do, no one tortured me, I didn't have to wake up early for grueling training, and I was free to do whatever I wished.

Unfortunately, as I later found out, even my life of thievery had problems. Police were looking for me since I had started stealing everything, so I had to be more careful out on the streets when exploring or scoping out new targets. I also had rivals. They were a small gang of thieves that were about my age, but they would steal things from my targets' houses before I could get there. Of course, I'd always get back at them by stealing things from their hideout once I had followed them home and saw where they lived. And because they had never actually seen me for knew who I was, I'd leave behind a blood red feather every time I stole from them as my calling card, getting the feathers from a nearby crafting shop. Because of this, they knew it was always the same person stealing from them, and this fact frustrated them even more. I reveled in their misery and often eavesdropped on their meetings to hear them complain about my elusiveness. In fact, since they didn't even know my name or appearance, they started giving me code names like the Blood Jay or Shadow Thief. I liked both of the titles, but I frowned at how they automatically assumed that I was a male. As if a girl like me couldn't be so stealthy!

My misfortune was extended a bit further as well. Hydra had started looking for me a few weeks after my disappearance. I guess they assumed I was just hiding around the base in the earlier days of my absence. The guards were sweeping the city in disguise, but I could always pick them out. They always had a gloomier appearance than every other person in the city, so I would keep clear of any particularly gloomy person I saw. I had to keep a constant eye out for them during my daylight excursions, as well as try to get food for myself. And after another hectic day of avoiding humans and looking for food, I would return to my personalized alley and relax in one of the cushions, and then I would get up and draw out the exciting events of my day on the building walls. I stilled used my nails, for I had failed to steal something to use for drawing. I still scratched the wall until my fingers bled and I would still use the blood from my fingers as ink, but it was no longer out of total fear. Yes, I was still afraid of the looming influence of Hydra, but it was much less oppressive here. In fact, the obsessive drawing was now out of a bad habit I picked up when I had lived in Hydra. Simply drawing on the wall like this made me wonder if they had read any of the messages I had left in my cell. I had left some . . . colorful comments on what I had thought about Hydra.

When I wasn't busy stealing, drawing, or hiding, I would spend my time training myself and improving my skills so that I wouldn't get rusty. I'd use my cushions as punching bags and work on my combat; I would softly whisper the ingredients for poison mixtures and sometimes explore the fields outside of Moscow to see if I could identify them. For fire training, I would summon a ball of fire and move it around, but I challenged myself to make different shapes with the flame. I wanted more than fire. I wanted to create a creature out of my flames that had the power to either heal or destroy. It was an interesting notion, and it pushed me to do more with my fire, it called me to use my fire for more than just destruction. I even picked up a new thing to train in; throwing knives. I had seen my thieving rivals use this tactic of fighting and it intrigued me. I wanted to try it for myself, so at night I pilfered their throwing knife set, their target they threw the knives at, and their fancy, Oriental rug just to show them who was boss. I left behind my feather and went back to my alley to set everything up. I placed my new rug in front of my bed of cushions and placed the target on the other side of the alley. I tried to remember how the other kids threw the knives and attempted to throw one. The result was less than successful. I tried again and again before I finally figured out how to throw the knife correctly and hit the target. It wasn't a bull's-eye, but at least I got it that time.

My life followed that daily routine for a while once I had started developing that schedule. I would take days off every once in a while if I had plenty of food and would spend the day resting. Most of the time, I was always on my feet and moving around to beat the gang of thieves that I always stole from. It was a surprisingly busy life, but I didn't mind that at all. It helped me stay alert to everything that might try to get me. It was rough, but it was a good life compared to my early childhood.


	20. Odd Man

**Hey, sorry everyone! You'd think with summer I'd get more written down, but I'm actually procrastinating more. XD Sorry! I just get distracted so easily by lots of things. But I got the next chapter up, finally! Hope you enjoy it!**

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My rough and tough street style of living continued for a few more years. Actually, it lasted longer than I had intended. I had hoped to get out of Russia within a few months, but it seemed I was stuck here for a while longer. I found the winters to be especially hard on me. As a fire user, I could never handle the cold very well and would have to bundle up in many stolen coats and blankets to keep myself from freezing, especially during the ruthless, Siberian blizzards. It was during those times that I would be unable to get any food for myself. The outside markets were gone during the winter and I would always have trouble getting food when I was constantly being chased by the police or Hydra. I was at the age of thirteen and I was already a wanted criminal. I chuckled darkly at the mere thought of it, how a child like me could be a threat to the population for merely trying to make a living. The most confusing thing, however, was the fact that whenever I looked at a reflection of myself, I still appeared to look like a little kid. Perhaps it was my body structure, perhaps it was due to periods of malnutrition, I had no clue. It was simply strange and I would leave it at that.

This winter was the hardest on me. There were series of many blizzards, which left me starving in my alley. I had considered making a truce with the other thieves and help each other with mutual survival, but I decided against it. My social skills were immensely rusty and they probably had a grudge against me for all of the times I stole from them. I decided to tough it out and wait until the storm finally stopped. By the time it was done, it was morning and people were already starting to walk around the city again. I shook the snow off of me and looked around. The city was covered in a thick blanket of snow after all of those blizzards, and although it was beautiful, it would mean a lot of cold experiences for me. I sighed and headed out in broad daylight to pickpocket for food. I was that desperate, and it was probably one of the worst decisions I had ever made.

I was tiny, my ribs were showing, and I had an all-out wild look. Just like when I had lived at Hydra. My nails were cracked and bleeding from my drawing, my body was covered in scars from when the Headmaster tortured me, and I had a few cuts and bruises from turf wars when I was trying to defend my home. It was an all too familiar appearance for an agent of Hydra. I paid no heed to where I was going in my rush for food and bumped into a tall, thin man. He whirled around and looked at me with his sharp, brown eyes. I was about to apologize before he grabbed me by the shoulders and grinned, "Ah ha! Got you!"

I let out a squeak of surprise and struggled futilely against him, "Let me go!"

"Not until we take you home, Project Z," he hissed.

I froze, trying to remain calm, "I don't know what you're talking abo-"

"Of course you do!" he interrupted, "Your eyes are a dead giveaway, as well as those scars!"

I flinched, my panic rising. He knew who I was; he knew I was the missing experiment. Gah! Why did I have to be so careless today?! This agent was going to drag me back to hell with him, and to make matters worse, he had to remind me of my scars. What if I got even more when taken back to Hydra? What then? Would I die? Would I live constantly being tortured? I didn't want to find out. "I-I'm not going back! You can't make me!"

He grinned wolfishly, "Oh . . . I'm afraid I can. Now come quietly . . . we mustn't keep our Headmaster waiting. . ."

I shuddered at his sickening voice and struggled again before kicking him in the groin as hard as I could. He let go of me out of reflex and I ran away as fast as possible. _Of course! I had to bump into a Hydra agent! Stupid, stupid, stupid! _Due to my rushed thoughts, I once again wasn't paying attention to where I was going and bumped into another man wearing a brown jacket. He looked at me in surprise and I looked up at him with wide eyes. That blond hair, those strong facial features, it all seemed familiar to me somehow. I heard a shout from the Hydra agent who was gaining on me and I panicked and ran around the blond haired man, dashing to the nearest hiding spot, an empty alley, and staying there quietly for as long as possible. If I got dragged back to Hydra, I'd die! I'd never be able to escape again! That could not happen! I would never go back, and I wasn't about to let my clumsiness get me dragged back to that hell.

I heard movement near the entrance of the alley and scooted back to the edge of my hiding spot until my back touched the wall as I saw a dark silhouette standing in the entrance. I tried to find a weapon, but there was nothing I could use. Of course, I _had_ to leave my throwing knives at home. _Dammit! Wait! Maybe I could use fire! No . . . that wouldn't work, I'm too hungry to waste my energy on that. My punches won't do any good against a full grown man. Well, if worse comes to worse, I can kick him like I did last time and make a run for it. _My panic rose further as the man drew closer and closer until I could see his face clearly. Once I saw who it was, I let out a tiny sigh of relief. It was that strangely familiar blond man! Well, it was better that it wasn't the agent, but I was still wary of him. He opened his mouth and spoke, but I couldn't understand him. He spoke a language I had never heard before. What was it? I tilted my head to the side and looked at him in confusion. He placed a hand on his forehead, mumbled to himself in his language, and took out a book from his jacket pocket and read from it slowly in Russian, "Are you okay?"

I gave him a wary look and nodded.

He smiled warmly at me, "That's good! So you can understand me?"

"Yes, but your pronunciation could use a lot of work. . ."

It took him a bit of time to process what I said, but when he understood he chuckled softly, "Yeah, sorry about that. Russian isn't my first language."

I nodded, still a bit wary, "Yeah, I can tell. . ."

"So why were you being chased by that guy earlier?"

I stiffened slightly at that question and lied, "I don't know. He's probably just some street creeper. He randomly started chasing me. Is . . . is he gone?"

The man nodded, "Yeah, he's gone. Are you sure you're okay? You look pretty beat up."

I nodded, "I'm sure. . ." I was confused, why did he care so much about my well-being? It was really odd.

He looked at me thoughtfully and said softly, "You look hungry. Here, take this." He took out a nice, big green apple and held it out for me. I backed up further to try and get spaced between me and the odd man. I didn't trust him, and I wasn't about to start trusting him any time soon. He looked at me in confusion and then said in a reassuring voice, "Don't worry! It's safe to eat, see?" He took a small bite out of the apple and swallowed before holding it out to me again, "See? Nothing happened!" he said with a surprisingly kind smile.

I stared at the apple, then the man, and then the apple again. I slowly inched my hand forward before snatching the apple and quickly withdrawing my hand as if I was removing an ancient, valuable relic from a trapped pedestal. He chuckled softly and smiled as I ate the apple, my stomach feeling much better with food in it. "So," he said, "What's a little girl like you doing out here in the middle of the winter all alone?"

I kept silent and continued to eat.

"Are you lost?"

I shook my head.

"Well, that's good," he said softly, "I'm Steve Rogers. What's your name?"

I looked up at him and considered what I should tell him. I could tell him about the name Anya gave me, but that name held too many painful memories for me. Besides, I didn't feel like having this man call me by that name all of the time, it would only make me feel even more sad. I didn't want to use that name, and I didn't want him to use it either. "I don't have one," I said quietly.

"No name?" He seemed surprised at that statement.

"Yeah, no name. . ."

He sighed and said quietly, "Well, that's unfortunate. . ." Steve looked up as he heard his name being called in the distance, "Well, I'm going to have to go for now, but I'll talk to you tomorrow, okay?" He smiled and waved goodbye to me before leaving the alley. I sat there and stared at him in confusion as he left. He just gave a random stranger like me food. What a strange man.


	21. Realization

**Hey everyone! I finally finished this next chapter! I'm so sorry it took a while to get this up. I lost my internet for a few days due to a bad router we had to replace. But now I have my internet back! **

**In other news, I got a cover picture uploaded for my story! It's what our little Mischa looks like as an adult having a flashback over her past, remembering those "scarring" memories that never left her. I'll try to get a nice cover picture drawn up for The Fire's Illusion, too. I just need to get an idea for what I'd want it to look like first before I get any of that done. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this new chapter!**

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After the day where I had met the oddly familiar man, I had expected him to forget all about me and move on with his strange life. And who could blame me? I was a tiny, insignificant street kid covered in so many scars that people could assume I had a freak accident with a shitload of knives or spikes. I was prepared in every single aspect to never see Steve again and to move on with my life of thievery and shadow-dwelling. My expectations were blown out of the water. The next morning, as I was weaving between the many people and trying to find the best places to get my daily bread, I heard his deep, familiar voice call out to me in his horribly pronounced Russian, "Hey, kid!" I heard him shout from behind me. I sighed, wincing slightly at how he called me. Alik used to call me kid. I had but to wonder if he was still alive, or if his new Headmaster at his new post shot him in the head, like our old one had done to a young guard in my infancy. That moment of my birth still haunted my dreams, conjoined with new nightmares of my torture. I stopped walking and turned around slowly, hesitantly. What if he changed his mind and decided not to be nice to me? Humans were inconsistent, I would never know if they were kind one moment and vicious the next. Greed, power, corruption . . . all three of those things factored in the changing of human nature in their scramble for greater power, for greater things to make their lives comfortable. It seemed most people, well, most I had known personally, strived to rule over others, to be above them as if they were a god. It made them violent, crazy, insane, and ruthless. What if Steve was like that? What if he was no different from the people I had known? I hoped he wasn't. He was the first person who had been kind to me in many years.

He stopped in front of me and smiled warmly, "Hey there!" he greeted cheerily, "I thought I wouldn't run into you today. Good thing I was wrong, eh? How's it going?"

I looked at him curiously for his odd question. No one had asked me how I was before. It was . . . odd. I wasn't used to this treatment; however, I was silently relieved to see that his apparent gentle nature had not changed since I had last seen him. "Uh . . . I'm okay . . . I think."

Steve smiled, "That's good!"

I paused a moment before asking, "How about you? Are you . . . good?"

"I'm doing pretty well! Thanks for asking! Oh, before I forget, here," he took out a large, filled sack and handed it to me.

I stared at the sack he was holding out to me. Was he giving me something again? I hesitated a moment, wondering if I was even allowed to take it before slowly reaching my hand out and grabbing hold of the sack. He let go and the sack immediately fell towards the ground, dragging me down slightly with its weight. I had not expected it to be so heavy. I attempted to lift it up, but I could hardly bring it up from the ground. "Whoa!" I exclaimed, "What did you put in here, bricks?" I opened the sack and found, to my utter delight and surprise, that it was filled to the brim with fresh food of all different kinds. I looked up at him with wide eyes. Did he just buy all of this food for a stranger he barely even knew?

He chuckled softly and looked at me with kind, gentle blue eyes, "It's for you!" he said with a voice as warm as the sun, "You looked really hungry yesterday, so I figured that just one apple wouldn't be enough."

I stared at Steve in pure amazement. I had never met anyone before him who would give me so much of something. Did he expect something back? I did not know. His expression did not betray any hint of cruel intentions, so perhaps he just gave it to me out of the goodness of his heart. "Y-You got all of this food for . . . me?" I did not understand his actions.

He nodded, "Yeah. It looked like you needed it."

I stood there in silenced puzzlement for quite a few moments. Why was he being so kind to me? I was a pure monster, a beast of anger and hatred, was I not? I had ended more lives as a child than a grown human would end in his or her lifetime. I had stolen from more people than I could count, and I had pickpocketed even more than that. I had infiltrated bases, stolen artifacts, and even eavesdropped on my home. I had done many unforgivable deeds, many horrible deeds that I would not easily forget, and yet this man was treating me with the utmost respect and kindness. Surely, I was unworthy of his generosity. Yet, somehow, I couldn't refuse his gift. He had most likely spent his own money so that I would have a meal. I felt I would be wasting it if I didn't accept his offer. I felt my eyes watering up over odd, warm, and fuzzy emotions of happiness and gratitude, emotions I had rarely, if ever, experienced in my youth. I gave him a small, tiny smile and hugged him tightly, not even caring if he'd beat me for it later. I felt him tense slightly, most likely out of surprise from my sudden action, but he returned the embrace, chuckling softly. "Thank you," I whispered softly, "Thank you so much."

Steve smiled and patted my back gently, "No problem. Here, I'll help you carry it to wherever you live."

I looked up at him and backed out of the hug, shaking my head, "No, no! That'd be asking for too much!" I didn't want him to see my alley, especially since I had messages of my hate and avoidance of Hydra. If he found out about where I had come from, would he hate me? Would he stop being nice to me? I didn't want to find out. I didn't want anyone to know about my past there, and what Hydra had made me do. I, myself, was trying so hard to forget the horrors of what I had experienced and done.

"I insist," he said with a smile, "I'm sure it'd be hard to carry without help, especially for someone your age."

I sighed at his persistence, easily telling that his mind was made up. I slowly nodded, agreeing with his request, "All right, fine. But we're only going to the entrance. My home's a total mess," I said, trying to make up an excuse for him to not see what lay within my alley.

Steve chuckled softly, "All right, I understand." He picked up the heavy sack as if it was nothing. That was when I had finally noticed just how strong this man was. He was well-muscled, and his arms bulged slightly when he lifted the sack. It looked like he was clearly capable of lifting objects much heavier than the sack and could even rip doors off of their hinges with no problems at all. He seemed like he was stronger than the average soldier. My thought process halted abruptly. _A soldier. . . _I widened my eyes as realization hit me with the force of a train. He was a soldier! Now I knew why Steve looked so familiar. He was the soldier in red, white, and blue that had attacked my base. He was one of the soldiers that had inadvertently helped me escape. I had thought I would never see any of those people ever again, yet here he was, the unique soldier that wielded a shield, standing in front of me and helping me. My amazed stupor was interrupted when Steve looked at me and smiled, "Ready?"

I nodded, "Yeah, I'm ready." I walked in front of him and led him through the streets towards my alley. After weaving through the throngs of people, we stopped in front of a dark, gaping hole between the two buildings that were now a normal sight for me. "You can just leave it next to one of the buildings here."

"You sure?"

I nodded, "Yeah, I'm sure."

"Well . . . all right." He walked closer to the alley and set the sack of food gently next to the old boarding house. It seemed like, due to the expression on his face, he wanted to ask me about my dwelling, but he told me he had somewhere he had to be and left, bidding me a farewell and a good day before leaving.


	22. Small Talk

**Hey everyone! I am so sorry for not updating sooner. I have a huge procrastination streak this summer, and I feel really bad about that. Honestly, I get so easily distracted when I don't have to work or anything and I just forget to do my projects. But, I finally have the next update up! Sorry for making you all wait**!

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The next days after that continued in a very similar fashion. Every day I had expected Steve to be gone and for me to never see him again, but every day he proved me wrong. He always seemed to be able to find me, and he always gave me food. I was troubled by this. Surely, I was unworthy of his kindness. I was a killer, a monstrosity. Who in their right mind would be nice to me? We talked more and more every day, Steve and I, and, although I hate to admit it, we were actually becoming quite close. He was like either a father or a brother to me, I do not really know for sure, since I had neither relationship in Hydra. He told me he was a soldier, so my suspicions were correct. I told him I was simply a kid who lived on the street and quickly changed the subject, "So, where do you come from?" I asked, "Since you said yourself that you're not from Russia."

"Ah," Steve said, "I'm from America."

"America?" I asked, I had never heard of such a country before. It had an interesting name. "What's it like?"

"It's pretty different from here. There are places that are nice and warm. We have lots of places to eat and people there have a bit more freedom."

"I see. That's . . . interesting." This country did seem interesting to me, but freedom was something I had not experienced until recently. What did he mean by more freedom? Was a life free from Hydra merely scratching the surface? Where was this country, anyway? Perhaps I would taste its freedom myself. "How far away is it from here?"

"It's on the other side of the world. Only way to get from here to there is by boat or plane."

I smiled slightly at that idea. Across the ocean? That was perfect. It was a nice, long distance away from Russia and Hydra. They'd never think of looking for me there, thinking I'd never be able to get that far. "That sounds really far away," I said, stating the obvious, but, then again, I was posing as an innocent, uneducated street kid, was I not?

Steve nodded, "Yeah, it is. So tell me, kid, how did you come to live all by yourself?"

I widened my eyes slightly. Of course, I had anticipated on him asking that question, but I was too busy trying to survive to even come up with a story to tell him! I couldn't tell him I was from Hydra, it was obvious he was one of their enemies. I looked to the ground as I walked, if I told him of my origins, he wouldn't look at me again. I'd be all alone again, and then what would I do? It was obvious that I had to lie to him, so I took on a solemn expression and sighed, deciding to tell him what I thought to be a believable sob story. "Well, when I was really little, my mommy and daddy didn't want me and they couldn't find anyone to take care of me, so they decided to send me out on the streets. My big sister liked me, though, and ran away to help take care of me when she found out that mommy and daddy wanted to get rid of me. She eventually got sick and . . . well . . . she never got better. . . She died before she could name me, since mommy and daddy didn't want to waste their time naming something they didn't even want."

"Ah," Steve said quietly, obviously believing my story, "Sorry to hear that."

"It's okay," I said softly. _It was a lie, anyway, no need to feel pity for me._

"What was her name?"

I thought for a moment at that question. I didn't want to use Anya's name for the lie, it would only upset me even more, besides, I had a feeling she wouldn't approve of it. I hesitated a moment before responding, "Mischa. Her name was Mischa." He didn't even know about my name, so it made no difference to me if I used it for my imaginary sister's name. I wasn't planning on using that name anyway, when I would find a way to get to America. That was my plan. I would get to America, change my name, and disguise myself as one of them to get as far away from Hydra as possible. Hopefully it would work.

"I am sorry for your loss," Steve said softly.

I sighed, "Ah, well she's happier now, I bet."

"So you have no family left?"

I nodded, "Yeah. Only family I had was my sister, and she's gone. I could honestly care less about my parents. They gave up on me, so I gave up on them."

"Ah," he said quietly. We walked on down the street in awkward silence before he spoke up again, "How would you feel about getting a new family?"

I looked up in sheer surprise, "Huh?"

"I mean, it would take a bit of time to get some paperwork in, but I could adopt you and you could be a part of my family, if you wanted."

I stared at Steve with wide eyes, "Really?"

He nodded at my reply and smiled, "Of course!"

I stood there in silence, my mind whirling in confusion. He wanted me to be a part of his . . . family? That word was unfamiliar to me, but it seemed to hold good memories with most humans. But, why would he want me to be in his family? I only cause death, destruction, and chaos, don't I? What good would that bring him? And wasn't I a creature unworthy of forgiveness? Steve giving me food was nice, but taking me in like this was too much kindness towards me, a complete stranger. In fact, everything he knew about me was a lie. I couldn't let him do this, and yet, I needed him to. Steve could be my ticket out of Russia and to a better life. I thought about this for a while, was I so desperate to get away from Hydra that I would use this kind man to help me? Yes, actually. If I didn't leave, they'd find me eventually anyway, and then what would that get me? Nothing but pain, torture, hatred, and sorrow. With Steve, I could get a life of happiness, peace, and freedom. I looked to Steve after my long thought and nodded, "Okay, where do we start?"

Steve smiled and ruffled my hair gently, which I proceeded to smooth out quickly as soon as his hand left my hair. "We have to call the police and get some background checks done before we can do anything."

I tried to hide the crestfallen emotion I felt hit me like a wave as soon as I had heard that. _The police have to get involved for this? . . . Shit. . ._


	23. Preparations

**Ah! I finally got it up! I am extremely sorry! I procrastinate way too much when I don't have anything going on at home, and never managed to get this up before I went on vacation. But I'm back, and I finally got the next installment of this story up. Sorry for the long wait! I'm going to immediately work on the next chapter now, so that you won't have to wait as long. This chapter's a bit short, but I felt it had a good stopping point.**

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I sat nervously in the police station. Steve had called them and reported what he had wanted to do. I had dreaded the day I'd be caught in the police station for a long time; I had been running from the law for so long, and now I had to finally face them. At least it wasn't Hydra. Eventually, we were brought to the back to be interrogated by one of the officers. Steve had passed his background check with flying colors, as he was a man who had never caused trouble and helped people. However, I was a much different story. The officer couldn't find anything on me, as I had no biological family, and, to my dismay, he recognized me. He grabbed my wrist and glared furiously at me. I looked away and struggled to get free, flinching at his touch, as the last human to touch me had tried to drag me back to hell.

Steve widened his eyes in shock, "What's the meaning of this?"

The officer turned to Steve, "I apologize, Mr. Rogers, but this little girl is a wanted criminal."

Steve looked completely stunned at that statement, his gentle blue eyes as wide as an owl's at that, "S-Seriously? Wanted for what?"

"Thievery, pick pocketing, trespassing, harassment, and vandalism."

My almost family member stared at me in complete, silenced shock. I shrunk back sadly. I wanted the ground to just open up beneath me and swallow me whole. There was no way that Steve would adopt a criminal, and then I would never get out of here. I was tempted to lie and say that it wasn't true, but he'd be more likely to believe a trained officer than a street urchin like me. I sighed and stared at the ground, laughing with nervous dismay, "Heh-heh . . . guilty is charged. . ."

Steve looked to the officer, "So . . . what has to be done?"

The officer replied, "She'd have to serve some time in Juvenile Prison for the trouble she's caused here."

I looked to the officer with frightened eyes. I couldn't be caged again! I'd have nowhere to run if Hydra found me there!

Steve obviously noticed my expression because when he looked at me his eyes softened to that gentle warmness that was foreign to me, "Isn't there something else we can do?"

"Like what?"

"What if she returns all of the items she stole and pays off the fine?"

"How would she manage to pay off the fine?"

"I can cover that for her. Would that work?"

The officer paused for a moment, "Hmm . . . I suppose that could work. Very well," he turned to face me, "Show me where you hid all of the stolen goods."

I sighed in both relief and despair. I was glad that I wouldn't be locked up and astounded that Steve would do this for me, but now I had the issue of the writing on my walls. What would the officer think if he saw the messages? Would I have to deal with even more problems? I finally relented and stood by the entrance, Steve was sitting in a chair not too far away, but he was out of the line of sight for the alley entrance. The officer took out a flashlight and turned it on, shining it into the dark, gaping maw of my home. He widened his eyes in shock at what he saw, and then stared at me. I cleared my throat and said, "You'll find all of the stuff in there . . . so, eh, yeah, that's it." It was an extremely awkward situation for me, and a nerve wracking one.

The officer walked in, picking up my throwing knife set and giving me a suspicious glare.

I raised my hands in defense, "I didn't use them on anyone. I'm a thief, not a murderer." _Not anymore. . ._

"And the blood on the walls?"

"My own. I had nothing else to write with."

The officer scraped off a bit of the blood, most likely to test that it was mine in case I was lying, and then called in some back up to help move all of the stolen items. Once that was taken care of, the officer Steve and I had been talking to that entire time confronted us again. "So, about that fine. . ."

Steve nodded, "Of course." He took out his wallet and handed the proper amount to him, still somewhat stunned at how I had managed to steal so many items.

The officer accepted the payment and then continued, "That has at least part of it taken care of, then. We'll have to keep her in our custody until we know for sure that she is fit for adoption."

Steve replied, "All right. How long will it take?"

"It's hard to know exactly for sure. We'll be checking up on her health, and checking for any family members that are left before we can even work on putting her up for adoption. Hopefully it won't take too long."

I sighed and stared at the ground. It looked like I would still be in the uncomfortable presence of the cops for a while yet. I wasn't too keen on having doctors poke around me to see if I was okay, especially if they saw my scars. Some of them were so large that there was no possible way of me getting them on the streets. I'd have to come up with a good explanation for that, half-truths might help on that part, and filling in the false details shouldn't be too hard for me. After all, it's not like I haven't lied before. I glanced at Steve, and then to the cop before relenting and letting the cop lead me back to the station. Damn . . . all of this shit we would have to go through better pay off once I reach America.


	24. Checkups

**Oh gosh, guys! I'm so sorry! My updates have been taking forever recently, and my procrastination is to blame. Plus, I've been recently getting so many ideas for drawings that I totally abandon my writing and draw instead. I feel horrible for that. Well, rest assured, I'm not dead (although band camp nearly killed me XD), and FINALLY got this chapter up! Sorry for the long wait, everyone! But thank you if you're still watching this story and haven't given up on it yet, I really appreciate that! :3 **

**In other news, Marching Band Season has started, which means a ton of practices during the week for me, so sadly, my updates will be slower with less time on my hands. Thankfully, however, I've been given a study hall, which will allow me to get lots of writing done for you guys!**

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Spending so much time under the watchful eye of the cops was undoubtedly the most boring thing I had ever experienced. They wouldn't let me go out without an escort and I couldn't go about my normal business. I hated being watched like a hawk. It was even more boring than before I had begun training in Hydra. Well, at least the food was a whole lot better. The cops here made sure I would eat healthy, as they had recently done a check on my physical health and found me to be severely malnourished. So far, I had been following a very healthy diet in order to restore that which I had been deprived of back in Hydra. Today, I have been informed that I will have a different checkup and had been told to wait until one of the officers came to fetch me.

While waiting, I was staring at a simple children's picture book and was silently scoffing at the impossible idea of how inexplicably happy one little turtle could be when I heard the door open. The officer who Steve and I had dealt with, who I now knew was named Alexander Vazov, entered the room. "The psychiatrist is here to see you," he said softly.

I nodded and stood up. It was time for the checkup. Yesterday, they had finished up the last of the physical checkups, which involved my diet, my strength, and any wounds I had. I had to get several infected wounds treated, and when prompted about the scar on my back, I said nothing. They have fixed me physically, and now they must fix me mentally. But how can they fix what has never been right? "What will he do to me, Mr. Vazov?" I asked quietly.

He responded softly, "Dr. Gorev is simply going to ask you a few simple questions."

"And that is supposed to help figure out what's wrong with my head?" I asked in disbelief.

Mr. Vazov chuckled softly and smiled, "Ah, you'd be surprised how simple responses can help people understand each other. Are you ready to go see him?"

I sighed, "I don't really have a choice, so fine. Let's go."

He nodded and led me to a small room with two comfy looking chairs. One chair was empty, and seated in the other was an elderly man with white hair, rosy cheeks, and eyes almost as gentle as Steve's. "You must be the patient," the man said, "Please, have a seat."

I nodded and hesitantly took the empty chair across from him, "So . . . you're Dr. Gorev?"

The elderly man nodded, "I am."

"You're supposed to fix my head?"

He chuckled softly, "Oh, we don't have to fix anything! We are simply going to find the underlying problems that prevent you from finding happiness." Dr. Gorev turned to Mr. Vazov, "If you don't mind, it is best that the patient and I are the only ones in this room, so that she isn't uncomfortable when talking."

Mr. Vazov nodded and exited the room.

I sighed and leaned back in my chair, a bit more relaxed now that the officer was gone. I never did like figures of authority.

Dr. Gorev turned back to me, "So, what is your name, child?" he asked softly.

I shook my head, "Don't have one." Just because I'd have to tell him about my problems didn't mean that I could slip up on my lies. There was no way in hell that I would tell him about my life in Hydra. I'd have to fabricate it in another story.

"That's unfortunate," he said, "Anyway, I am going to say a few words, and I want you to tell me the first thing that comes to mind when you hear them, okay?"

I nodded.

"All right then, let's begin," he said, "Family."

"Ruin."

He paused for a moment, surprised at my answer before continuing, "Sky."

"Freedom."

"Home."

"Gone."

"Father."

"Evil."

"Mother."

"Dead."

He leaned back into his chair and thought for a bit, "I think I know what the problem is. You had a traumatizing experience with your family, and so you don't know who to trust, correct?"

I nodded, somewhat surprised at how close his guess was.

"Can you tell me what happened?"

I thought for a moment before responding, "My . . . father . . . was a heavy abuser. He'd beat me until I was bruised very badly and cut in a few places. And, one time, when I had finally stood up to him, he hurt mother, and she . . . she," at this point, tears had started falling down my face as I had remembered what had happened to Anya, "she never got better. . ."

Dr. Gorev nodded and looked at me sympathetically, "I understand. Are you able to tell me a bit about your family?"

I nodded and took a deep breath, "Father was the head of an organization, and mother was a nurse. My father didn't want to name me and got mad at mother for wanting to because he said I didn't deserve a name."

"That explains your slight discomfort around the officer," he said softly, "Did your mother care about you?"

I stared at him for a few seconds. He had noticed my discomfort around Mr. Vazov? That was kind of surprising, but oh well. I nodded and finally responded, "Yeah . . . but she was too afraid of Father to show it."

"And as soon as she was gone, you ran away?"

"Yeah."

"And Steve, the man who wants to adopt you, why do you trust him?"

I thought about this for a moment, unsure myself why I trusted him so much before it hit me. I knew why I trusted him, he reminded me of Anya, "He's kind like Mother, and since I can't keep living on the streets, I want to be with someone kind. I . . . I don't want to go back to my father," I said worriedly, my voice cracking a bit, "Please, please, please don't take me back to him!" The sheer thought of what the Headmaster would do to me if I returned to Hydra made me break down crying again.

"Don't worry, child," Dr. Gorev said gently, "They won't take you back to him." He looked me in the eyes, "Are you going to be okay on your own for a bit? I need to speak with Officer Vazov."

I nodded and whipped away my tears, hiccupping a bit, "Y-Yeah. . ."

He nodded, "Okay, wait here." He stood up and exited the room.

As soon as he had left, I looked up and smirked slightly. He had believed every single word. "Mischa, you've outdone yourself," I said softly. Perhaps I shouldn't have lied, but it was better for everyone if, from now on, no one knew about my past. Besides, it wasn't a _complete_ lie. I was right about the Headmaster killing the only person I considered a mother. He did abuse me, and technically he was my father for being the man behind my creation. I took a bit of comfort in the fact that I didn't totally lie to the doctor. I stood up and headed to the door, pressing my ear against it to listen in on the conversation. I couldn't wait patiently enough to find out what happened.

". . . So, what's the diagnosis, doc?" I heard Mr. Vazov say.

"She seems to have no sign of any mental illness and is simply a traumatized little girl," replied the voice of Dr. Gorev.

"So you're saying. . . ?"

"She seems to be fit enough to be put up for adoption. In fact, I wholeheartedly recommend it, as it may be her only way to get over her trauma."

"Very well. I shall inform Mr. Rogers immediately."

"I'll fetch the girl then."

At this point, I quietly rushed back to my chair, masking the smile that threatened to creep onto my face. Finally! I would be able to get away from this place now! I would finally be able to start fresh and forget about my life in Hydra. I'd have a whole new identity. Things finally seemed to be looking up for me!


	25. Adoption

**Ah! Finally found the time to type this up! Study Hall definitely helps me with my writing, and allows me to not get distracted as easily as I normally do! I'm almost done writing out the draft of the next chapter too, so I'll hopefully have that up soon for you all! Anyway, enjoy!**

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After my mental examination had been completed, Dr. Gorev had Officer Vazov escort me out of the room to pack what little belongings I had. Later, they drove me to the nearest orphanage and dropped me off there. Apparently this was the easiest way to get all of the legal adoption pages together. I was instructed to wait until Steve was able to stop by and adopt me. The wait was rather excruciating. I was stuck with a bunch of idiot kids who thought they were the gods of the universe or something like that. A few of the boys had scowled at me as I had entered the room. One particularly tall and scrawny boy stalked up to me like a cat and sneered, "Ah, so it seems we have fresh meat here. A tiny small fry!" He hacked up some spit and shot it towards me, which I easily sidestepped and gave him a venomous glare.

Another, rather rotund boy spoke up, "How 'bout you give 'er a warm welcome?"

The first boy grinned, "That's just what I was planning." He then launched his fist clumsily at me. I dodged it with ease, holding back the urge to laugh at him for his attempt. He grumbled angrily and then threw a flurry of punches while I was still easily dodging them. This kid was an amateur at best. With an angry growl, he put all of his might into his next punch and I grabbed the fist in my hand, stopping his efforts altogether.

"Pathetic," I said in a low voice, clenching the fist I held and causing him to wince slightly at my surprisingly strong grip. The current healthy diet definitely improved my physical prowess. Before he could try and escape from my grasp, I quickly grabbed his wrist with my other hand, letting go of his fist and snaking my hand up to his arm, flipping him over my shoulder and pinning him on his stomach to the ground, his arm twisted behind him in my hold. I put my knee between his shoulder blades as I held him and hissed slightly, "You have no direction to your punches! Where the hell did you learn to fight? Were you taught by a fucking six year old? Learning how to throw punches is the most basic lesson! Gods, how did you survive this long?" I then let go of him and backed off so he could scramble to his feet.

He looked at me and stared in utter astonishment how someone as small as me could put him down so easily. "Where . . . how did you do that?" he stuttered slightly. I could tell how frazzled he was, as his blue eyes were frozen wide open, and he didn't bother to smooth out his ruffled, black hair.

I shrugged and responded coolly, "It's called being able to actually fight," I responded, and then looked around me. Every other orphan kid in the room was staring at me with wide eyes, their jaws dropped in shock.

One short, redheaded kid spoke up, "Wait a minute . . . she's one of dem thieves on the street, ain't she? Yeah, got all dem wanted posters put all o'er the place."

Another one spoke up, "Yeah! That's the one! Waddaya doin' in 'ere then, if yer so hard ta catch?"

I sighed and looked away. I had been hoping that no one would recognize me. Now it would be harder for me to leave Russia unnoticed. "I chose to be caught," I said simply.

The redhead spoke up again, "Why?"

I snapped at them, "Because I was fucking tired of fighting every single day to survive! Now stop with the questions, dammit!" I stalked away from the surprised group of kids, muttering angrily to myself, "Careless, stupid . . . they just _had _to recognize me back there! Now Hydra will be able to figure out that I let myself get adopted! Shit!" In my hasty march away from the crowded room, I eventually found an empty room with chairs scattered around and sat in there, waiting for Steve to come pick me up.

While waiting, I was left to think by myself. Naturally, my mind wandered to all that had happened to me up to this point, which was a very traumatizing experience for one as young as I. My mind brought up memories of Hydra, and how terrified and lonely I was there. The Headmaster was a cruel and cold man, with both his training and his form of punishment. He murdered the only person I could trust there. He murdered the only one I thought to be a mother, and he vanquished all that which had still been innocent in me. Witnessing his treatment to Anya, and how he had lied to me, filled my mind with sorrow and rage. His cruel eyes reminded me just how different he was from Steve. All of the hatred and cruelty in the Headmaster's eyes had equal amounts of kindness and generosity in Steve's. The man who would be my future family was one of the nicest people I had ever met. He took me in without even question where I was from, and he only wanted the best for people. He was a hero to me, saving me from Hydra and starvation. And for one in my life, I finally had someone to idolize. I wanted to follow his footsteps. I wanted to be as good as he was. I would no longer be a tool for the world, I would be someone like Steve Rogers.

I now had two goals in my life. The memory of Anya filled me with sorrow, but I could at least attempt to quell those sorrows. I could avenge her murder. With time, I could grow stronger and more deadly, and end the Headmaster's evil reign. I could learn to save people like Steve, while working up the courage to end that which should have never existed. The silent vow made to my dead mother renewed me with strength and vigor. My amounts of training and my desire to do something important in life made this goal of revenge seem very real. I just had to be patient and play my cards right.

The woman who was behind all of the adoption procedures broke my thoughts with her rather shrill voice, "Someone's already here to adopt you."

I looked up to the woman, "Me?"

"Yes, you. Who else would I be talking to in this room? Hurry up!"

"Yes ma'am," I said softly before standing up and following her to her office. Once we entered the room, I immediately saw Steve sitting in one of the empty chairs. "Steve!" I ran up to him and hugged him tightly.

He smiled and chuckled softly, "Hey! Glad to see you're okay!"

"Are you sure about this choice, sir?" the woman spoke up.

Steve looked at her and nodded, "Yes, I'm sure."

The woman nodded, "All right, fine. She'll need a name though."

Steve nodded, "I know, I've been trying to think of one." He looked over to me, his gentle blue eyes putting on a thoughtful expression. "How about Robin? What do you think?"

I contemplated the name for a moment. It was definitely different from the name Mischa, and it sounded more American. It would hopefully make it a bit harder for Hydra to find my whereabouts, plus it was a rather nice sounding name. I had remembered Anya telling me about the birds called robins, and how they were brown with reddish-orange bellies. I always thought they'd be pretty, and their stomachs had the same color of my element. Even though I had never seen them, they held a special place in my heart. I finally gave him a nod of approval at my name, "I like it," I said softly, in almost a whisper.

Steve smiled, "That's good!"

The woman at the counter spoke up, "Right then, write the information down in the adoption paper, then."

Steve nodded, grabbed a pen on her desk, and scribbled everything down on the paper. I looked over his shoulder curiously, trying to see what he was writing down. I read the name he wrote down silently to myself. _Robin Rosalina Marie Rogers? Shit, I have two middle names now. And they're . . . fruity sounding. How am I supposed to intimidate someone if my middle name is Rosalina Marie? I can't! _I sighed, _Ah, well, middle names aren't used much anyway, I suppose._ I sat down in one of the available seats and waited patiently while Steve handed the filled out paper to the woman.

She read over the paper and nodded, "All right, you're all set."

Steve smiled brightly, "Thank you!" and then he looked over to me, "Ready to go?"

I nodded, "Yeah." _The sooner we get the hell out of here, the better. _I stood up and followed him quietly outside the orphanage. I was one step closer to becoming free of Hydra. All I had to do was stay with Steve here and I would be golden.


	26. New York

**All right! Finally got this chapter typed up! School and Marching band have been keeping me busy.**

**And on another note, I won't be able to get any writing in at the moment because I have to read ****_The Grapes of Wrath _****for a Language Arts project, which means all of my writing time will be spent reading instead, sorry guys. But it shouldn't be too long. As soon as I finish the book I'll get started on writing. I have another chapter after this one written down, so I'll try and get that up here as well, but figured you all should probably know why my updates will take a while after this point.**

**But, anyway, enjoy the chapter! :D**

* * *

We arrived in America once we had everything sorted out. The plane ride to his home city, New York, was very uneventful and quite boring. I had fallen asleep on the plane. New York had a different time than Russia did. We had departed from Moscow at eight in the morning and the time at New York when we arrived was about nine in the morning. This was really weird and confusing for me because Steve had informed me that the flight itself was about ten hours long. Apparently the world was split up into different time zones, and New York was eight hours behind the time Moscow was. So, I guess I somewhat time traveled there. And it was the most boring thing in the world because all we did was sit in a chair and wait around for hours on end.

The plane ride caused my body to be confused about the times, and I felt much more alert than I normally would have in the morning, probably because it should've been about six in the evening or later back in Moscow. Another downside was that I also couldn't feel my own ass. I had never thought it would feel so good to finally be able to stand up. I stretched out my legs, which were screaming in protest for having to be still for so long, and followed Steve out into the city. I looked around at the tall buildings and the bustling traffic that surrounded the area. The look and the feel of the place were completely different from Moscow. People seemed to be more out and about here. However, I didn't feel too out of place. Well, aside from my more ragged clothes and this silly little fact that I couldn't understand what the hell anyone was saying! I looked to Steve helplessly for answers, and he glanced at me and chuckled, "They're speaking English, which is the language used here. You're gonna have to learn it in order to understand anything."

I sighed, "Great, I have to learn a new language."

Steve smiled, "You should be okay when learning it."

"You sure?"

"I am."

"Anything else I need to know?"

"You could learn to read and write, and learn some math."

"Math?" I tilted my head to the side.

"You know, adding, subtracting, that kind of thing. We use numbers and then do something like that to get a different number."

I contemplated this for a moment. I had never heard of math. Sure, I've heard of reading and writing, but no one in Hydra ever mentioned math to me. They were more concerned with me learning how to fight and spy for them. After considering this weird thing that was called math, I crossed my arms and looked away, "Math sounds useless!" I scoffed.

Steve laughed, "Math isn't useless! Granted, some people don't like learning it, but it's not useless!"

"Whatever floats your imaginary boat," I replied.

He chuckled and then changed the subject, "Here, let's get you some new clothes and then head back to where your new home will be." He took my hand and led me down the street, through the massive crowds of people and down to a store. There, we walked in and he let me look at whatever I wanted to get. The only thing they had for girls were dresses, so I settled on getting the darkest dress I could. Apparently I needed more than that, though, because Steve helped me find a few more. We got a blue one and I picked a brown one. And then I was forced to get pink because they didn't have any other colors that I liked. I'll probably burn that one when no one's looking. After we got the new clothes, he led me back down the sidewalk until we reached a small building and went inside. It had a homely feel to it, with a nice little kitchen, and some comfortable looking furniture. I smiled slightly at the sight of it, it was devoid of barred windows and stone floors. A simple little house. "I know it's not much," Steve said, breaking my thoughts of the simplicity and warmth of the house, "But it's all I really have."

I looked up at him and widened my smile a bit, "I like it." It wasn't a prison. It was an actual home.

"I only have one bedroom, but . . ."

"I can sleep on the couch," I interrupted.

"You sure?" he asked, his voice betraying surprise.

I went up to the couch and plopped down on it, relishing just how comfortable it felt compared to my previous sleeping arrangements. "Yeah, I can definitely sleep on the couch."

"All right, if you're positive."

I nodded and leaned back into the brown couch, "So, what can I do around here?"

"Well, my house is your house, so anything really, as long as you don't break things."

I was silent for a moment. I had never really had this much freedom before. Life on the streets let me do whatever, but I had spent most of the time trying to stay alive. In comparison to this, where I don't have to worry about it, it seemed a lot less free than being here with Steve. This realization made me feel so small and unsure. ". . . Like what?" I asked quietly, suddenly sheepish about asking such a question.

Steve smiles kindly at me, "You could watch TV, read a book, draw, write, anything at all."

"Can I wash myself?" I asked.

He chuckled softly, "Of course! There's no need to ask for permission."

"Okay. Uh, where's the bathroom?"

"Just down the hall over there and it's the first door on your left." He indicated where the location was with a point.

I nodded and silently walked to the door, pulling it open and looking around curiously. The floor was tiled with white and there were red colored rugs next to a few of the odd appliances. I had never seen a bathroom like this, but I could at least recognize the sink and the toilet in the room. However, he didn't have a bath, at least, not what the baths I had rarely seen looked like. Instead, he had a small area slightly raised up from the floor with a drain and a silver spout with knobs on the wall beneath it. Bubble glass surrounded the area and I saw a silver handle where I assumed a slider door was located. I stared at it for a few moments before calling out, "Steve?"

I heard his muffled response a few moments later, "Yeah?"

"Your American bath confuses me!"

There was a slight pause where I assumed he was laughing softly at my statement before I heard him say, "Hold on, I'm coming."

I stood there patiently, still trying to figure out how that little space in the corner functioned as a washing area before I heard Steve open the door. I looked to him and pointed to the glassed area, "How do you work this bath thingy?"

Steve laughed softly, "It's called a shower, Robin."

"Then how do you work this . . . eh . . . shower thing?"

Steve chuckled and opened the glass door, "See this knob here?" He laid his hand on one of the simple, round knobs. "This turns on the shower. This one," he put a hand on the knob to the right of the first one, "controls the temperature. The colors above it tell you which way to turn it. Blue is cold and red is hot."

I blinked, stood silent for a few moments, and then slapped my forehead in shame. "Agh! I'm so stupid!"

Steve chuckled, "It's okay! You've never seen a shower before, right?"

I nodded.

"So it makes sense that you didn't know how to use it."

I sighed, "Yeah."

He smiled, "So don't be so bummed out about it."

I nodded, "All right, fine, I won't be."

Steve nodded, "Well, now that you know how it works, I'll leave you to your shower." He exited the bathroom promptly.

I stared at the shower in confusion a bit. I thought the idea behind this whole thing was very odd, but oh well. I entered the shower and turned the knobs experimentally. I was immediately hit with freezing cold water. I jumped back in surprise, nearly slipping in the shower, but, thankfully, managing to catch myself. After I got over the small shock of almost slipping, I turned the temperature knob to the warmer spectrum. Soon after, I was immersed in refreshingly warm water. Now I had to figure out the soaps. I couldn't read the labels to find out which soap was which. They only had two or three languages on there for the labels, and none were in Russian. Deciding that I didn't want to spend forever trying to figure out the soaps, I took all of them and used them for everything, body, hair, and anything else that needed to be washed. Afterwards, I exited the shower and wrapped myself in a towel. My hair was still dripping wet, but I was too lazy to squeeze out the water. I looked at myself in the mirror above the sink and sighed a little dejectedly. Without all of the grime on me from the streets, the scars all over my body were much more apparent. A painful reminder of who I was and all that had happened.

I dried myself off and put on one of the new clothes I had bought with Steve earlier. I decided on the black dress and then promptly combed my wet hair out with my fingers. When I felt ready, I left the bathroom and went back to Steve. I plopped down on the couch and leaned back into a comfortable position.

"Shower work okay?" Steve asked.

"Yeah," I answered.

"That's good! You all settled in?"

"For the most part."

"All right. And now that I'm also back, I have to go report for duty. I need to figure out what to do with you. I can't just leave you here by yourself. . ."

"I'd be fine on my own, Steve," I responded, "I mean, I did live on the streets for about three years."

"I know, but things are a lot different here . . ."

I was about to retort that being in a house by myself wouldn't affect me at all, but it looked like he was thinking, and so, I left him to it. I sat quietly and waited as patiently as I could for him to say his idea.

He looked at me thoughtfully, "I can take you to my friend Peggy. Maybe she could help watch you, and then you wouldn't be here all by yourself. And who knows, she might help teach you a few things here and there, as long as you don't get in the way of her job."

I nodded, "Okay . . . sounds good, I guess. Does this Peggy speak Russian?"

He sighed, "No. . ."

"Then we will probably have speaking issues."


End file.
